Self Made in Miami Part 1

This pork chop will be one of the most interesting pieces of pork I put on the grill. 

I found a need and I intended to be the needle.

I was working South Beach or maybe it was working me.

At sixteen I had the need or the desire to be.

I was hired to be a meat head, I was a kick you the fuck out, cared for nothing but my pay check and the brotherhood I was a brother too.

I would walk to work and I would wait till sunrise. I would wait till the buses where running. I would wait till I could get back to Hialeah. 

Efficiency life was mine. Sister had left and I had right.

Mother tried but the city, the city turned me and I became a wolf.

Time ticked and a I tricked it.

My landscape feared and I saw the grass greener on the other side.

Few years went, and the people around me where static and that fucked me up.

These static people had Sergio Valenti dreams and I wanted to be the Members Only guy.

How is time going to go by and I'm going to be the same. How is time going to go by and I'm going to suffer it.

Fuck that religion. 

Drugs where everywhere, first I was working at Club 1235. Yes bright eyed, wide smile, spring of an Oak was I. 

I couldn't vote yet I was the enforcer. 

Gentle giant, Aquarius, peace walker, night stalker. I was put on assignment, the Vip back room became mine.

While Suzy, Daisy or what ever her name was sprinkled rose petals on the back stairway from the alley I became the Wolf at the door. 

Affable, bilingual  I befriended the moths that came to the flame. 

As some drowned their sorrow or rejoiced their score I perked my bat sonar ever listening catch all ears. 

Most of the Spanish speaking patrons where Colombian we had our love for emeralds and our admiration for El Gabo in common. 

They where on the edge most of the time. Murder was out for them and Miami was no refuge. 

These loosely called friends or acquaintances of mine would tell me about the execution squads and the "Vacunas" extortion fees, their names where on the list. 

This early flirtations with the people that skated on the thin parts of the ice would spark the ambers that would jetesen me to Bogota and into the interior of La Gran Colombia. 

Nineteen years old I plant my feet firmly on this unknown city.