Speak Up

"I'm picking you up. We're gonna go visit Face in prison."

Silence.

"You need to see this."

That was my buddy Reg on the phone. My stomach dropped about to my knees. Twenty minutes later I climbed into his black pickup truck, Onyx'99. I got about as far as the room where you register as a visitor. I mumbled something, then carried my hung-over ass to the metro and rode home.

Face is a fixture on the DC poetry scene. And also on U Street. Reg is directing a documentary that features him, and let me cut some of the footage. Can't wait to see the finished film.