Rendezvous and step. Rendezvous
in a step in step in a step. Rendezvous
in areas not usual for the sort of purposes.
In this abandoned prison complex, I rendezvous unlikely, liking what I
find and how I see, and many ways in which I feel aspects being me.
Even in this prison, abandoned as it is, and miserable as it
was, there are beautiful images and sad ones, coexisting side-by-side, as we
stride on by, attentive by-passers, in Poro Rico.
Outside of the complex, I rendezvous with a space to appreciate
reggeaton too. A human expression,
aesthetics pushed to the side like a side of corn bread, complimenting the
primary dish of identities advanced in confidence as assertions counter to
images of people being lesser beings in the ladder or latter with rungs,
scheme-a-things. The practice of
cultural relativism, liberates as Freire could dream it would. I want to rendezvous. The thing of a place for rendezvousing and we’ll
rendezvous. In transit. So I transmit. Calling for rendezvous. You.
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