16 Dec

There are days I end up where I was going only a day early. I did that today except a day early turned out to be not a moment too soon. I ended up at the Navy Memorial for tomorrow’s wreath laying but not too late to see the clothing lines ringing the park between 13th Street 14th StreetK Street and I. It is a weekly ritual. Sundays like clockwork church groups come with food and clothing to distribute to Men Women and Children blocks away from Americas Most Famous residence the White House. Two blocks down and one block or so over the line of needing exponentially grew and replicated leading half way into the park. Where before it was one line this day it was three lines. The Bus Supervisor waved me off when I pulled to the curb. She said she takes photos of poor in DC. She said no one would believe her poverty is so close to home for Mr. Obama. Her assistant moved to DC from LA. She said she knew there were good lines in LA but she could not imagine food lines in DC nor could she imagine food lines so close to the man who campaigned and won the coveted presidency…. Again. She cleared the sidewalk so the woman with the walker could pass by. Happy holidays was little of solace to the woman humbling by. A second term for 44 now 45 wasn’t making her life better unless you could say being given a used coat qualifies. The bus supervisors smiled empathetic in a culture focused on Race Color Halves and Have Nots


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