romp but my heart jum ped when she bounced and wagged
and waved and flew like some giant sparrow heading toward
spring; and I counted on the respect pricks have for big dogs to
keep me safe but it didn’t always, there was always ones that
wanted to fight because she was big, because they thought she
was more male than them, bigger than them, stronger than
them, especially drunks or mean men, and there was men in
the park with bigger dogs who wanted their dogs to hurt her
or fight with her or mount her or bite her or scare her or who
made me m ove by threatening to set their dog on her to show
their dog was bigger or meaner or to make me move because I
was gash according to them and they was men. It’s simple and
always the same. I moved with a deep sense o f being wronged.
I shouldn’t have had to m ove but I couldn’t risk them hurting
her— more real life with a girl and her dog who are hurting no
one. The toilet was too small to take her into and I couldn’t
leave her loose in the hall because some man upstairs, a
completely sour person, hated her and kept threatening to call
all these different city agencies with cops for animals that
would take her away; but probably I w ouldn’t have left her
there anyw ay because I’d be afraid something unexpected
would happen and she’d be helpless; so she had to stay in the
apartment when I went to the toilet and I locked the door to
protect her. It’s unimaginable, how much I loved her. She was
so deep in m y heart I w ould’ve died for her, to keep her safe.
E very single piece o f love I had left in me was love for her;
except for revolutionary love. Y o u become the guardian o f a
creature and it becomes your soul and it brings jo y back to
you, as i f you was pure and young and there was nothing
rough or mean and you had tom orrow, really. She made me
happy by being happy and she loved me, a perfect love, and I
was necessary, beyond the impersonal demands o f the revolution per se. I had always admired the Black Panthers, with a
certain amount o f skepticism, because I been on the streets
they walked and there’s no saints there, M ao’s long march
didn’t go through Camden or Oakland or Detroit or Chicago.
I didn’t get close with Huey until I saw a certain picture. I think
it will be in m y brain until I die. I had admired him; how he
created a certain political reality; how he stood up to police
violence, how he faced them down, then the Survival
Program , free food for children, free shoes, some health care,
teaching reading and writing; it was real brilliant; and he ju st
didn’t die, I mean, you fucking could not kill him, and I
admire them that will not die. I knew he had run wom en but I
also been low ; I couldn’t hold it against him; I couldn’t hold
anything against him, really, because it’s rough to stay alive
