The Day of the Senator

The Day of the Senator A small crowd gathered in the muddy street with apprehension and anticipation Some from the shacks on stilts above the mud flats that lined the fringes of a beautiful bay For this was the day, the day of the Senator Then an old man with weather face said why would a Senator come to this place? I knew what he came to see, for I was his guide He came to witness poverty in its rawest form, naked, cruel, indigestible, heat stenched, sewage drenched life at its cruelest, begotten by a world that pivots on its axis so as not to see or to admit its existence Then the dark faced crowd broke out in a cheer and someone shouted the Senator’s HERE! They had rounded the corner a handsome couple walking toward us with wide smiles to greet a warm gathering which grew as word spread it was not a MYTH And the two shook my hand graciously, a dishonest levity in their greeting, for behind their frozen smiles a look of disheartened astonishment at the ugly face that they came to see, for poverty has many faces and today it was wearing its ugly one He wandered over the swaying walkways and planks disappearing into the gray collage of wooden abodes but she could not consume the squalor and politely stood back What sport do you like to play? he asked some little boys, bronze faces highlighting giddy smiles Soccer! one shouted Then who is the best player? PELE!, they cried in unison A mother whispered, a peculiar twist a Senator coming here like this It was just that; a peculiar day that ended with some spoken words - something about educating your children, a far reaching dream in this city built of sticks where people survived or didn’t survive and where lazy vultures perched on weathered posts, assured of an easy  meal (he didn‘t know you had to wear shoes to school) Three years had passed, since he spoke that day in the mud. I was sitting in my living room sipping a cup of coffee watching the Senator on TV speak of VICTORY in a California hotel the day he was shot Written March 10th, 2002 © on Mar 10 2002 01:12 AM PST   0 • 9