Oscar Fuentes / The Biscayne Poet Miami (Nicole Tallman)
Little Haiti (Bonswa Mesye O)
(part of a new animated film, and original music has been composed by Sydney Guillaume)
I walk my dog Max every evening after work. I live off Biscayne Boulevard and 64th Street.
We cross Biscayne and Max leads me all the way to the heart of Little Haiti, the Cultural Center on 54th street.
On our way there I swear we can smell the aroma of all the different types of dinners being cooked.
The scent is so rich and colorful.
There are four houses where the families actually set their dinners out on their patios.
Their dogs have even stopped barking at us because we’ve become familiar to them.
Yesterday we actually started waving hello.
We usually turn right back around after we arrive at the Little Haiti Cultural Center.
That’s when our walk gets interesting.
By the time we start to cross the neighborhood, we can smell coffee in the wind mixed with a touch of cigar smoke.
Two of the houses that have dinner under the stars always bring out their conga drums and bongos while they sip on their coffee.
We walk by slowly and listen to them sing together softly, in Creole.
Max usually speeds up his walk after we pass the two music houses and he slows down at the boulevard.
The motels with their neon lights flickering. The billboard of the Coppertone girl with the pooch in the distance.
Everyone stops on red. Max pulls and we cross the street. They all drive on green.
Max pulls me east all the way down to Biscayne Bay.
We stop right by the water. We both sigh. I mean, how could we not be influenced by this.
Little Haiti (Bonswa Mesye O)
(part of a new animated film, and original music has been composed by Sydney Guillaume)
I walk my dog Max every evening after work. I live off Biscayne Boulevard and 64th Street.
We cross Biscayne and Max leads me all the way to the heart of Little Haiti, the Cultural Center on 54th street.
On our way there I swear we can smell the aroma of all the different types of dinners being cooked.
The scent is so rich and colorful.
There are four houses where the families actually set their dinners out on their patios.
Their dogs have even stopped barking at us because we’ve become familiar to them.
Yesterday we actually started waving hello.
We usually turn right back around after we arrive at the Little Haiti Cultural Center.
That’s when our walk gets interesting.
By the time we start to cross the neighborhood, we can smell coffee in the wind mixed with a touch of cigar smoke.
Two of the houses that have dinner under the stars always bring out their conga drums and bongos while they sip on their coffee.
We walk by slowly and listen to them sing together softly, in Creole.
Max usually speeds up his walk after we pass the two music houses and he slows down at the boulevard.
The motels with their neon lights flickering. The billboard of the Coppertone girl with the pooch in the distance.
Everyone stops on red. Max pulls and we cross the street. They all drive on green.
Max pulls me east all the way down to Biscayne Bay.
We stop right by the water. We both sigh. I mean, how could we not be influenced by this.