Around 1967 we moved to Bridgeport, CT. I’m standing looking around the hallway in a school. Lost in space; a lonely place, a foreign land. Why don’t they speak Spanish?
Around 1969 I’m asking why are they on the moon, I thought. Roller skating around the hallways was fun. I played with the white stuff; it was so cold.
Around 1976 I lived in the South Bronx. Dad is Super of the 181st Street building. Roaming the night streets on weekends. Mom can’t read nor write. I wind-up in jail.
Around 1977 I met a friend in a supermarket, my life changed. I go home that night crying. Sprawled on my parents’ bedroom they want to know what’s wrong with me.
Around 1969 my sister walks the city barefooted, with bell-bottom pants, showing her bellybutton. Dad doesn’t like that and gives her a whipping. I didn’t understand. Mom goes to the room and cries.
Around 1972 my brother decides to steal a bike. I had to fight to defend him. I was so scared of that gang.
Around 1982 I was in love and I tell my girlfriend I’ve join the Army, now let’s get married. She says yes. So I married an 18-year-old beautiful Puerto Rican girl. We go to Brooklyn, NY. That same year Terry’s pregnant with our first child—Teri Lee. She sends me magazine clips with baby pics, I don’t understand. I was a private in Basic Training.
Around 1990 I’m in Kuwait and the sky is black. I miss Terry and the kids.
Around 1997 Terry lands in Budapest, Hungary to meet-up will me. She’s so brave
Around 1963 is dark, I smell gasoline, crying in a cramped car upside down.
Around 1979 I rode the subway to Coney Island with a friend. The Warriors was my favorite movie.