J. Newton
A Sign of the Times

The Smoke

Someone was more stoned than we were last night. He was walking down the Grand Trunk railroad tracks between Fourteenth and Grand River. He was a neighborhood resident of the slum area north of Warren on the near West side, close to the Fifth Estate office.

He had been in the uprising two years ago when the A&P and the Cunningham’s on Trumbull had been burned down. The thought grew in his mind: Fire. He wanted to burn. He wanted something to burn.

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