"Slippin' into Darkness" by Douglas Manuel
Slippin’ into Darkness
More Soul was what the sign said, well, used to say, before
gusts, cold, rain, snow and no money made the R fade away.
Now the butterfly collars and halter tops call it Mo Soul
and wanna know who Mo is. Ain’t no Mo here, he always
tells them as he takes their orders. Let me get the Dark
Meat Two-Piece Special. His afro trying to escape the confines
of his hairnet, his forehead lined with acne, sweat beads,
and chicken grease. This evening, him and his mama
run the whole place. His stepdaddy gone to The Avenue;
his real daddy got shot on The Avenue, his uncle too, trying to
make right what happened that night. Damon, boy, you know
yo’ mama be putting her whole foot in those greens. Etta Mae,
from the kitchen, say, You just want some of this honey,
Junebug. Ain’t nobody studyin’ you. If his stepdaddy was here,
he’d be upside her head, and Junebug would have a mouthful
of gun shaft choking his throat. If his stepdaddy was here,
they wouldn’t be closing early; they wouldn’t be dancing,
mother and son doing The Funky Chicken and The Bump,
wishing The Avenue would make her a widow again.
Photo Credit: Grey Pulliam