Pepsi: Setting Fires in the Underworld

This post is part of a collaborative narrative series composed of my writing and Chris Arnade’s photos exploring issues of addiction, poverty, prostitution and urban anthropology in Hunts Point, Bronx.

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This post is part of a collaborative narrative series composed of my writing and Chris Arnade's photos exploring issues of addiction, poverty, prostitution and urban anthropology in Hunts Point, Bronx. For more on the series, look here.

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Pepsi: Hunts Point, Bronx. Courtesy of Chris Arnade.

This is a continuation to Pepsi, Part I.

Hell, Boy

In flames, everything.

That's what they say

you put them through,

Ash-sister. The streets

gorge on gossip.

Carbon ate the apartment

with the Barbie pink walls

where men came to buy

smoke and companion

and women kept

everyone well, spooning

Honeycomb cereal into

shared beds.

Does a fire's voice sound

like screaming from the dirt

poor friends who say you steal

their New Balance

sneakers? Enter bi-

polar fits to rage and to live

under the half-moon

skeleton bridge.

You are the Fragglewump

seen on sewage TV

in this mixed up

underworld they speak of.

------------------------------

More Hunts Point Addiction Writing

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About Cassie Rodenberg

I write, I listen, I research, I tell stories. Mostly just listen. I don't think we listen without judgment enough. I explore marginalized things we like to ignore. Addiction and mental illness is The White Noise behind many lives -- simply what Is. Peripherals: I write on culture, poverty, addiction and mental illness in New York City, recovering from stints as a chemist and interactive TV producer. During the day, I teach science in South Bronx public school.

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