Wednesday, March 25, 2009

ANDY CLAUSEN







Counsel to a Black African Immigrant


I have little credibility where they call it cred, on this issue
My hair is straight, my face and color are mostly Caucasian
I have opened myself to all people
I have agreed and disagreed with everyone I met
Let me tell you where I was, when I came on the boat
A few years after the war with maybe 5 words of Anglais
-------gleaned from Tom Mix, Hoot Gibson, Bob Steele oaters
--------------cowboy movies, "Steeck em up! Yes, mam!"
Gripping my mother's hand, my link to understanding
-------sensing a fear in her I could feel in my bladder
--------------in my feet
Behemoth buildings marginalizing the sun
-------so many times taller than ever seen
--------------in Villein, Jambes and Dave, my villages
-------across the Meuse over the bridge from Namur
--------------our city in Walloon Land
I expected the Land of our Saviors to unfold
-------like a glamorous movie of ice cream, soda pop
--------------fabulous toys, Chevrolets & Fords
-------great movements of rapid color & chrome
My eyes saw what my mind couldn't wrap
-------concrete grey faces, the hugeness
--------------the speed, the way the people did not look
-------the language made me chew my tongue

We went to the famous train station
-------and headed for Reno Nevada, it would take days
I know it took us long to find the train
-------and I remember my mother being very nervous
On the train, a man, dressed all in white
-------carried our bags, a man darker of skin
--------------than any I'd ever seen, with luminous eyes,
-------very red gums and a tooth of gold
--------------spoke French to me
I reckoned a very important man he
I wanted to be his friend, I loved him
I wanted him to be our guide, his smile
-------would replace fear

In your country, in Africa, is the wealth
-------the products, the celebrity of America
-------mythologized like some Golden Street Utopia?
Glorified like in my cinematic 5-year-old visions?
Well, I'll tell what I think I know, what I think I've
-------learned in my half century here
No matter your accomplishments, your learnings,
-------your good intentions, your traditions & lineage
--------------in your old home
Here you will be another descendant of slaves
Until you speak, the policeman, the grocer, the neighbor
-------the bosses will think you came from the hood
--------------the ghetto, the Other Culture
You will have to have money and spend it
-------to gain visibility and even then
--------------the cultural spiritual economic war
-------that has smoldered and raged inside chests
--------------of muscle and blood
-------since the first Africans landed here in chains
--------------will suck you in
There is the chance, a prevailing, omnipresent chance
-------you will be the man gunned down reaching
--------------for his I.D.
The cops saw a black man, therefore a dangerous man
-------in a car, if you are driving a hooptie,
--------------an old beaten vehicle, you will
--------------be suspicious, a suspect
-------if you are driving a new modeled car
--------------you will be suspicious, a suspect
-------if you are friendly with a white woman
--------------you will get looks, and eyes of all varieties
--------------all emotions and many will scorn
--------------some will deride, few will praise
--------------fewer will treat you as an okay human
There is a big history, a largely untaught history
-------a white washed history, that will be part of yours
--------------and it has become a matter of life or death
You will learn this is how it is
-------in every big city, on every street




Andy Clausen was born in Belgium and brought to Oakland, CA. by his mother when he was two years old. He'll tell you he has had "300 apartments, 300 jobs and 200 cars", some of those jobs being in the construction field and teaching in schools and prisons. Andy is one of the dynamic examples of what came with poetry after Ginsberg, Corso and Bob Kaufman— an excellent showing may be found in one of his books 40th Century Man. Longhouse has published Andy's postcard poem to a Wobbly, and his foldout booklet Design, dedicated to his close friend Janine Pommy Vega.