Petronia and Fort

and The Key West Cemetary

Most people treated me as if I ought to be a stone cold bitch.

Traipsing around Key West in silk cardigans and pearls. Camera in hand.

The sweaters I buy cheaply. The jewelry I make.

Except that one Queen down in Bahama Village.

She was sitting on a swinging settee under the shade, while a man out front adjusted the Christmas tree on his bike.

It was in the midday sun when she hollered out - "You goin to work girl?"

I yelled back- "You bet I am!"

A couple blocks later when a man looked out the back door of a restaurant and announced to the air and the guy beside him in a stage voice- "Either she lives here or she's been here before."----I didn't answer. I spent three hours silently in the cemetary as a response.

That night at dinner in a swell place, some well appointed people said- "Jesus no one will steal that thing. Did ya see it? That black man's got a Christmas tree on his bike."

I didn't say anything then either. I just listened.

josie soho® 2008