KWEE Liberian Literary Magazine Jan. Iss. Vol. 0115 Feb Vol. 0215 | Page 66

Liberian Literary Magazine February Issue 0215 Sometimes I think that nothing really changes— and touch it on its flank, and I don’t w atch all that much Masterpiece Theatre, but I could feel the end of an era there The young girls show the latest crop of tummies, and the new president prov es that he’s a dummy. in front of those bleachers full of people in their Sunday tennis-w atching clothes But remember the tennis match w e w atched that year? Right before our eyes as that black girl w ore dow n her opponent then kicked her ass good then thumped her once more for good measure some tough little European blonde pitted against that big black girl from Alabama, cornrow ed hair and Zulu bangles on her arms, some outrageous name like Vondella Aphrodite— and stood up on the red clay court holding her racket ov er her head like a guitar. And the little pink judge had to climb up on a box to put the ribbon on her neck, still managing to smile into the camera flash, ev en though ev erything w as changing We w ere just w alking past the lounge and got sucked in by the screen abov e the bar, and pretty soon w e started to care about w ho w on, and in fact, ev erything had already changed— putting ourselves into each w hacked return as the v olleys w ent back and forth and back like some contest betw een the old w orld and the new , Poof, remember? I t w as the tw entieth century almost gone, w e w ere there, and w hen w e w ent to put it back w here it belonged, it w as past us and w e w ere changed. and you lov ed her complicated hair and her to-hell-w ith-ev erybody stare, and I , I couldn’t help w anting the w hite girl to come out on top, because she w as one of my kind, my tribe, w ith her pale eyes and thin lips Ka 'Ba and because the black girl w as so big and so black, so unintimidated, Imamu Amiri Baraka hitting the ball like she w as driv ing the Emancipation Proclamation dow n Abraham Lincoln’s throat, like she w asn’t asking anyone’s permission. A closed w indow looks dow n on a dirty courtyard, and black people call across or scream or w alk across defying physics in the stream of their w ill There are moments w hen history passes you so close you can smell its breath, you can reach your hand out Our w orld is full of sound Our w orld is more lov ely than anyone's tho w e suffer, and kill each other and sometimes fail to w alk the air 52