Pack man the Blood… Familiar twin cities troublemaker in the 90’s.. Lol. Wth…”always in trouble” was another side name. Let me educate u on my own bull#$%@…I was 17 and at midway mall…my stomping grounds. Thought I was pretty tough…dickies sagging… Hair curled.. “Yes, Pack had hair lol.. And a fresh cherry red flag hanging out my back pocket. I had a shadow that day. Won’t name him…but he thought the world of this walking lie in bright red shoes. I came across an enemy of a close relee of mine. 60’s cripping on slip mode oh yeah had to hit em up!.. Problem was he was a grown man with a build I was still years away from. F it… I got heart! “What’s up blood!…f-crab!” I yelled, while throwing up the big B. He stopped..looked at me and measured me up… Smirked and told me to kick rocks before I got hurt. My companion looked relieved. I wasn’t… Pack had a point to prove. Yeah it was mostly posturing, but words of instigation to this seasoned rival continued to spew forth from my reckless young trap until Finally…He bit the bait…and rushed towards me. I ran into a dounut shop lol… So did my brave sidekick. As the Crip entered in behind me I flew at him and started in with my juvenile fists trying to touch every part of his face. Thought I had him.. Yay!.. Well, maybe not. He kicked me off of him and I stumbled drunkenly accross the room. He quickly recovered and we rushed towards eachother and locked up. I was very tired.. Got scared truthfully…damn, wth did I do… I found myself behind him. I wrapped my arms around his waist, and in one last effort to victory had picked him up and fell back to slam him… Oh oh… This great man I somehow manage to get in the air came crashing down full force on my head! I couldn’t move…he could… He got up. Turned me around so I was laying on my belly and he mounted my back grabbing up a fist full of my pretty curled hair in one of his huge hands. Here came the other hand… A fist of fury!… Boom boom boom over and over again on the side of my face. I remember the impact too. White light! White light! White light! He did that till my courageous protege stepped in and picked up a metal napkin holder to threaten him off of me with. The Crip glared at him and yelled ” Nigga put that down or ur next! ” needless to say but I will, my gangster in training did as he was told. So… The beating continued till sirens could be heard. The Victor got up and darted out of the shop. My “helper??? “…urged me to get up so we could flee too…all I could do was manage a very weakly spoken” help me. “… Before he scrammed too… Leaving me there…I fell asleep. Do u see the point I’m getting at all u super hard core tough guys out there? There’s a saying I’ll leave u with as u soak this very true tale up… Pride cometh before the fall!… Wish I would of heard and understood that before that epic beat down lol…but hey, I learned! Peace

Published by Pack Redfeather

I am a walking contradiction of traditions some say. An African American and Native American Muslim poet with a personal life history as violently turbulent as a Storm. A visionary from the bottom of life’s social barrel striving to share the hope found in the light of faith through sometimes dark but real poetry. I’m a former member of the Bloods street gang, former serial bank robber, and both federal/state prison convict. I live on my mother’s tribal reservation of the Leech Lake band of Ojibwe in Minnesota.

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