Neighborhood Magic
An essay with poems by Carron Little from a project and publication on a history of Chicago’s Beverly and Morgan Park neighborhoods produced as part of an artist residency with the Beverly Art Walk.
A Poem for Lendon Sadler
An Immaculate Conception
Butter cream was latest sculpting tool
The plumage of feathers in her hair
A floral arrangement was the new avant-garde
A high hair dooe on Tuesday
The curlers came out on Friday
The butter cream gelled his high top quiff
On sweet sweet Auburn Avenue
The black beauty capital of sweet sweet Auburn Avenue
While Daddy King’s Ebenezer sang Hallelujah
The dusty cigars lined the walls
The dusty men rolled in once more
Mr Gold Teeth who lived next door
Trash was his art form
A secret entrance, a private door
Hairspray and mascara masked the Boosters hold
Fashionistas fronted the Dyke bag ladies conference
Whose bodies grew under the weight of the
National organization of Survival Sisters
On sweet sweet Auburn Avenue
The black beauty capital of Sweet sweet Auburn Avenue
While Daddy King’s Ebenezer sang Hallelujah
Ms Rich stood in tune
To the cash register, a loading dock
Sending another dollar bill
straight into my bank account
The best dressed boy on sweet sweet Auburn Avenue
A fried egg in a habit
The bag lady empire grew
Lost in the act of naivety and who knew
We all were part of an exchange.
The cabbies kept the flow
Oh sweet sweet Auburn Avenue
The black beauty capital of Sweet sweet Auburn Avenue
While Daddy King’s Ebenezer sang Hallelujah
Claude held the key to the bible door
An elaborate cathedral with the finest organ
In sweet sweet Georgia
We rocked the house of midnight mass
The pink triangle was a secret sign
Librarians, priests we all held the key
Implicit knowledge of homosexuality
One night changed my life on sweet sweet Auburn Ave
The graffiti covered anti-war Datson gave me a ride
On sweet sweet Auburn Avenue
The black beauty capital of Sweet sweet Auburn Avenue
While Daddy King’s Ebenezer sang Hallelujah
Five months on the road
To New York state
Stopping at little Nebo in North Carolina
They discovered something new in my sweet sweet afro
The boy handed me a snake
Swarthmore with its echo chambers
Silence reverberating philosophical tones
Down down its echoing halls
Peace sang out loud echoing all the way
To sweet sweet Auburn Avenue
The black beauty capital of Sweet sweet Auburn Avenue
While Daddy King’s Ebenezer sang Hallelujah