A House Party at the Dyckman Projects in 1976

The elevated train at the margin of the housing projects lacerated the track.  Northbound, it rounded the curve, until disappearing, the metal tail lashing flames fading to the stratosphere. From the height of the tracks, a passenger on the train saw electric blue glow around the windows of apartment 12C in the 3rd building of the complex. The faint saxophones and hyper-tribal percussion music grew louder.  The windows swelled and contracted. On the street, parked cars popped up from the concrete, crashing back down in sparks to the beat:  “Watch me now, feel the groove…into something, gonna make you move….”  Dusk colored light covered nine buildings of the complex in magenta, and the energized teenaged organism inside of apartment 12C caused streams of sweat to trickle down the cream colored walls and steam to rise from the floor.  The shades of black, brown, tan and mocha pulsated it would seem as independent rhythmic forces, but they were all part of one throbbing mass.