San Gabriel Valley Poetry Quarterly

CaLokie
SUMMER OF ‘66

One year after the riots or rebellion

depending on your point of view
I attend the Watts Jazz festival
 
In the afternoon under the junk sculpted tower of Simon Rodia 
The drumming is like a flower power fiesta at a love-in
and deep in my heart I do believe that one day 
WE black and white together
SHALL OVERCOME
 
But as Hugh Masekela trumpet fanfares 
West Coast sun down, majority of minority 
Euro-Americans leave festival 
and l am left  with a few whites bobbling 
like a fishing float in an African-night ocean  
 
War beat takes over drums
Flash backs to year ago unrest follow
“BURN, BABY, BURN.”
“GET WHITEY!”
“BLACK POWER!”
 
Suddenly blonde Euro in halter top stands up in spotlight,
bares midriff and shakes blue jean booty 
to roar and laughter of crowd
 
A jazz brother needs a ride
and in my ’53 Chevy, I drive him to his ghetto home
My fading blue clunker could have broken down there
but it didn’t
 
And even if it did
as Miles Davis might have “Kind of Blued” 
with muted horn
“SO WHAT”