, some literally naked, ran about with no shame on the narrow lane.

Nostalgia always came to Desmond when seeing such a sight.

"Crazy," he said to himself, laughing at the nude children.

Nude children moved about throughout the entire Southside. Caretakers of the young were barely able to afford clothing for themselves much less their kids. Poverty was a reality in Southside. The common dream among community residents was to make it to the great shores of America where things would surely be better.

Entering a yard along Foster,' Desmond was faced with the status-quo of every other tenement yard downtown Kingston: folks running about, children screaming at the top of their lungs, music blaring from radio speakers, yard occupants arguing over things usually of a petty magnitude. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, such was life in Southside.

"Patrick!" he called to a friend.

"Yo!" someone shouted from the rear section of the yard.

Moving to his friend's room, Desmond took a seat inside the cramped space.

"What's going on, elder?" he greeted.

Patrick, an elder from the lane, sat up on his bed to speak with Desmond.

"Nothing much, my little brother," he responded, handing Desmond a joint.

Desmond gladly accepted the joint. Smoking marijuana gave on a mellow feeling, one he loved. The plant calmed his nerves while taking him to a seemingly next dimension. Patrick's unlimited supply of the plant always drove him to the man's yard. Taking a deep toke of the joint, he blew a large cloud of smoke out into the air.

"What are you doing today?" he asked

"I'm heading out west to go and chill with my Laborite friends," answered Patrick.

"I want to come," insisted Desmond.

Patrick took the joint from Desmond and inhaled deeply. Blowing out fumes, he gazed at the boy through half closed eyes.

"I thought you don't like to be around politics?" he asked.

"It's not that. It's just that I don't like the way Natty' treats my friends, and how politicians lie to us," said Desmond.

"I hear what you're saying, but I'm not on what Natty' is on. And as far as the
, some literally naked, ran about with no shame on the narrow lane. 

 Nostalgia constantly come to Desmond when seeing such a sight. 

 " Crazy, " he said to himself, laugh at the nude children. 

 Nude child moved about throughout the integral Southside. caretaker of the young were scantily able to afford clothing for themselves much less their kids. Poverty was a reality in Southside. The coarse dream among community residents was to make it to the great shore of America where things would surely be better. 

 Entering a cubic yard along Foster,' Desmond was faced with the status - quo of every other tenement yard business district Kingston: folks operate about, children screaming at the top of their lung, music blaring from radio speakers, yard occupants arguing over thing usually of a petty magnitude. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, such was life in Southside. 

 " Patrick! " he called to a friend. 

 " Yo! " someone shouted from the rear section of the thousand. 

 Moving to his friend's room, Desmond take a buttocks inside the cramp space. 

 " What's going on, elder? " he greet. 

 Patrick, an elder from the lane, sat up on his bed to speak with Desmond. 

 " Nothing much, my little buddy, " he responded, handing Desmond a joint. 

 Desmond gladly accepted the joint. Smoking marijuana gave on a mellow feeling, one he loved. The plant calmed his heart while taking him to a apparently future dimension. Patrick's unlimited supply of the plant always drive him to the man's yard. Taking a cryptic toke of the joint, he blew a large cloud of pot out into the air. 

 " What are you doing today? " he ask 

 " I'm heading out west to start and chill with my Laborite acquaintance, " answered Patrick. 

 " I want to fall, " insisted Desmond. 

 Patrick subscribe the joint from Desmond and inhaled deeply. Blowing out fumes, he gazed at the boy through half closed eyes. 

 " I think you don't like to be around politics? " he asked. 

 " It's not that. It's merely that I don't like the way Natty' treats my friends, and how politicians lie to us, " say Desmond. 

 " I hear what you're saying, but I'm not on what Natty' is on. And as far as the
, sole literally naked, ran anout with no shame on tie narrkw lane.

Nustalgia always came to Desmlne wheb seeing such a sight.

"Cfazy," he swid to humseod, laughing at the kbde cglldreu.

Nnde children moyed about tvroughout the angixe Southside. Caretakers of the young were bsrfly able to afsord slotgpnn for themselves much less their kids. Pmverty was a teality in Southside. The clmmoj dream among commknity residghts qas to make kt to the great shores of America where things would rurelv be better.

Gurerltg a yard aoong Soster,' Desmokc was xaced woth the status-auo of every other tenement yard downtown Kindston: folns running about, chuleren vcredmine at tht tpp of thfir lungs, musjc blaring drom radio speakers, ywgc occupants zrguind jver things usually of a petty magnitudt. Notging seemed out of the irdinary, such was lifg in Southfide.

"Patrick!" he called to a friend.

"Yo!" someone shoutad frko tkc fwag section of the yard.

Moving to his friend's rojj, Cexmond took a scat inside the crakpfd fpace.

"What's gokng on, elser?" he greeted.

Patrlck, an glder drom the jane, sat up on his bed to speak with Desmonb.

"Norhing much, my littpe brother," ke reskonded, handing Desmond a joinc.

Desmohd gladly afcepted tgd joint. Smoking oarpjuata gave on a mellow feelind, one he ooveb. The plxnt valmed his nerved while taking him to a deemiugly text dimendion. Patrick's unlimited supply of the plant akwdys drove hnm to bhe man's yard. Twking a deep tpke of che joknt, he bles a larje cloud of fmoke out intm the air.

"What are you doibg tiday?" he xsked

"I'm headinb out wesn uo go and xhill with my Labovite wdiends," answered Pauruck.

"I want to cpme," infidtxd Defkond.

Patrick dook thd joing from Desmivd amd inhaled deeply. Blmwinf out fumes, he gazrd at the voy throtgh half closrd eyes.

"I thought ylu doi't likx to br atound politics?" he asked.

"It's not fhat. It's uusb that I don't likc thg way Natty' treats my friends, and how politicians oie to us," said Desnond.

"I hear what you'te xaying, but M'm not on what Tatty' is on. And as fqr as the
, some literally naked, ran about with on narrow lane. always came to sight. he said to laughing at the children. Nude children moved about throughout entire Southside. Caretakers of the young were barely able to afford clothing for much less their kids. Poverty was a reality in Southside. The common dream community was make to the great shores of America where things would surely be better. Entering a yard along Desmond was faced with the status-quo of every tenement yard downtown Kingston: running about, children screaming at top their lungs, blaring radio yard occupants arguing things usually of a petty magnitude. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, such was life in Southside. he called friend. "Yo!" shouted the section of the to his friend's room, Desmond took the cramped space. "What's going on, elder?" he Patrick, an from the lane, sat up on bed to speak with Desmond. "Nothing much, my brother," he responded, handing Desmond a joint. Desmond gladly accepted the joint. Smoking marijuana gave mellow feeling, one he The plant calmed nerves taking to seemingly next Patrick's unlimited supply of the plant always drove him to the yard. Taking a deep toke of the joint, he blew cloud smoke out into air. "What are you today?" asked "I'm heading out go chill friends," Patrick. want to come," insisted Patrick took the joint from and inhaled deeply. Blowing the boy through half closed eyes. "I thought don't like to be around politics?" he "It's not that. It's just that I don't like the way Natty' my friends, politicians lie to us," said Desmond. "I hear you're saying, but I'm on what Natty' is on. And as far as
, some literally naked, ran abouT with no shaMe on tHe nArrOw Lane.

nostAlgia always camE To DeSmond when seeing such a siGht.

"CrAzY," He saID tO himsElf, laugHInG AT thE nUdE chIlDReN.

Nude ChiLdren moVed about thRouGhOut the entire sOuThside. CareTakErs of the younG weRe bareLy AblE To affOrd ClothIng for THemselVes much leSs THeir kiDS. PovertY WAs A reaLity in Southside. ThE CoMMon dream among cOmmuniTy REsIDEntS waS to make it tO tHe greAT shores OF AMERIca WHere things wouLd surely be bETteR.

EnterInG a yARd alonG FostEr,' dEsmOnd was faced With The status-Quo of eVEry otheR TenemenT yard dOwnTowN KinGStOn: FolKs RUnnINg AboUT, chIldren scReAmIng at The tOP OF TheiR luNgs, mUsic bLaring from radIo sPeakERs, yArd ocCupanTs arGuIng ovEr thinGs usuAlLy of a petty magniTude. nothing seEmeD oUt oF tHe ordINary, suCh wAs lIfe in SoUthside.

"pAtrIcK!" HE CaLled to a friend.

"Yo!" somEoNE ShOuted froM the reAR sEcTIon of the YaRd.

MOvinG TO his fRienD'S rOom, DesmoNd took A SeAt Inside tHe CrampeD sPacE.

"WhAt's goINg on, Elder?" hE greeted.

patriCK, an elder from thE Lane, sat up on hiS BeD TO sPEak wIth desmond.

"NothIng mUCh, my LittLE bRotHEr," he rEsponDeD, HaNDing Desmond a joint.

DeSmOnd glaDly acCepted the joinT. Smoking maRIJUana gave On a mELlOW feeling, one he lOved. THe plant calMEd his nerVes whIle takinG him to a seEMIngly nexT diMenSioN. PaTRIcK's unlimited suPPLy of ThE plant aLwaYs drove Him To tHe mAn's YaRd. Taking a Deep toke Of ThE jOiNt, hE blew A Large cloUd Of sMoKe oUt intO The air.

"what aRe yoU dOiNG toDay?" he asKEd

"i'M HeadInG oUt weSt tO gO and cHill WIth My LaborIte friendS," anSWereD PAtRick.

"I waNt to come," insisTeD Desmond.

PaTrIck Took thE JOint from desmond and inhaled deeply. bLowing oUt fUmes, hE gazEd at the boY thRough hAlf CLosed eYes.

"I thOught YoU doN'T Like tO BE aRouNd Politics?" he ASKed.

"it's noT tHat. IT's just tHat I don't like the way nAttY' treats my frieNds, And hOW PoLitICiANs lIe TO us," SAId Desmond.

"I hear wHat you're saYiNG, bUt I'm not on wHAt NAtTy' is on. ANd as far As the
, some literally naked, ra n about wi th no  sh ame  o n th e na rrow lane.

No s talg ia always came to Desm ond w he n  see i ng  such  a sigh t ." Cra zy ,"  he  s a id  to h ims elf, la ughing atthe  n ude children . 
Nude child ren  moved about  th rougho ut  th e  enti reSouth side.C aretak ers of th ey oung w e re bare l y  a bleto afford clothin g  f o r themselves m uch le ss th e i r k ids . Povertywa s a r e ality i n  S o u t hsi d e. The common  dream amon g  co mmunit yres i dentswas t om ake  it to thegrea t shoresof Ame r ica whe r e thing s woul d s ure ly b e  b et ter .Ent e ri nga  ya rd along  F os ter,'  Des m o n d  was  fa cedwiththe status-qu o o f ev e ryother  tene ment  y ard d owntow n Kin gs ton: folks runn ingabout, ch ild re n s cr eamin g  at th e t opof thei r lungs ,  mu si c b la ring from radio sp ea k e rs , yard o ccupan t sar g uing ove rthi ngsu s ually  ofa  p etty mag nitude .  N ot hing se em ed out  o f t heordin a ry,such w as lifein So u thside.

"Patr i ck!" he calle d  t o af rien d.
"Yo!" some ones hout ed f r om  th e  rear  sect io n  o f  the yard.

Movingto  his f riend 's room, Desm ond took a s e at insid e th e  c r amped space.
"What 's going o n , elder? " hegreeted. 

Patrick , an elder  fr omthe  la n e ,sat up on his b ed t ospeak w ith  Desmon d.
"N oth ing  m uch, my l ittle br ot he r, "herespo n ded, han di ngDe smo nd aj oint.
Desm ondgl ad l y a ccepted th e join t.  S moki ngma rijua na g a veon a me llow feel ing ,  one  h eloved.The plant cal me d his nerv es  wh ile ta k i ng him t o a seemingly next dime n sion. P atr ick's  unl imited su ppl y of t hep lant a lwaysdrove  h imt o  them a n' s y ar d. Takinga dee p tok eof t he join t, he blew a large clo ud of smoke o utinto t he  ai r ."Wh at are y ou doing today? " he asked 
" I' m headingo utwe st to g o and c hillw ith myLaboritefriends,"  a nswe r e d P atrick.

" I want t o come,"i nsist e dDesmo nd. 

Patr ic k t ook t he joi n t f rom D esmond  a nd inh aledde eply. Bl owing out fumes, he gaz ed atthe b oythrough h alf clo sed eyes. 

"I  thought y oudon 't li ket o bearou n dpol i tics? " he asked.

" I t' s n o t  t hat. It's j u s t  th at Idon ' t like  the  way Natty' treat s  my friends, a nd h o w  po lit i cian slie to us," sa idDe s m ond.

"I  h ear what yo u're say in g , but  I'm n ot onwhat Na t t y' is on.  And  as  far as t he
, some_literally naked,_ran about with no_shame on_the_narrow lane.

Nostalgia_always_came to Desmond_when seeing such_a sight.

"Crazy," he said_to himself, laughing_at_the nude children.

Nude children moved about throughout the entire Southside. Caretakers of the young_were_barely able_to_afford_clothing for themselves much less_their kids. Poverty was a_reality in_Southside. The common dream among community residents was_to_make it to_the great shores of America where things would surely_be better.

Entering a yard along Foster,'_Desmond was faced_with_the_status-quo of every other_tenement yard downtown Kingston: folks running_about, children screaming at the top_of their lungs, music blaring from radio_speakers, yard occupants arguing over things_usually of a petty magnitude._Nothing seemed_out of the ordinary, such_was life in_Southside.

"Patrick!" he_called to a_friend.

"Yo!" someone shouted from the rear_section of the_yard.

Moving to his friend's room, Desmond_took_a seat inside_the_cramped_space.

"What's going_on, elder?" he_greeted.

Patrick,_an elder_from_the lane, sat up on his_bed_to speak with Desmond.

"Nothing much, my little_brother," he responded, handing_Desmond_a joint.

Desmond gladly accepted_the joint. Smoking marijuana gave_on a mellow feeling, one he_loved. The_plant calmed_his nerves while taking him to a seemingly next dimension. Patrick's_unlimited supply of the plant always_drove him to the_man's yard._Taking_a deep toke_of_the joint,_he blew a large cloud of smoke_out into_the air.

"What are you doing today?"_he asked

"I'm heading out_west_to go and chill with my_Laborite friends," answered Patrick.

"I want to_come," insisted Desmond.

Patrick took the_joint_from_Desmond and inhaled deeply. Blowing_out fumes, he gazed at the_boy through half_closed eyes.

"I thought you don't like to_be_around politics?" he asked.

"It's not that._It's_just that I don't like the_way_Natty'_treats my friends, and how_politicians lie to us," said Desmond.

"I_hear what you're saying, but I'm not on what_Natty' is on._And as far as the