Momentarily distracted by a ladybug crawling on the wall beside him, he hears the music while watching the ladybug. “Aria’s up,” would be the name of the smile that appears on his face. He closes his journal and heads indoors.

Ah finds Aria lost in thought before a blank canvas coated in red. She doesn’t look his way.

Cut To:

City College, Day, Informal Classroom.

Ah stands in front of a class of forty-five students of different shades and backgrounds, all with a common sense of respectful awe for their “professor.”

AH:

But what is the difference between hip-hop and poetry? Is there a difference? When there is a distinction to be made it is most likely due to this “competition.”

The students ___________- Ah’s_________ more friend then professor-_____________.

AH:

Emceeing is a competitive art form. No one wants to listen to a rapper unless they claim to be “the best rapper alive.” The competitive stance that the rapper takes forces him/her to embody that old hip-hop saying, “act like you know.” It is a matter of projecting confidence. The poet, on the other hand, acknowledges that she is still learning—that she is a student trying to figure it out—it is not that she is less confident—rather she is confident enough to openly acknowledge the power of vulnerability.

Aura Purple, a student, raises her hand and speaks.

AURA:

Aren’t there exceptions to that rule?

AH:

Well, that’s why we’re here, Ms. Purple. For you to become the exceptions to these rules. These rules are not set in stone. They are the simple by-products of society, products of observation. And what is more important than the distinction between hip-hop and poetry is what they have in common, which is through the command of language they tend to effect the experience of the writer and possibly of the person who reads or sings along. They’re forms of invocation. Tupac said, “I never had a [criminal] record until I said that I did on record.” John Keats said, “Poets are midwives of reality.”

All right, that’s time for today. Your homework is to finish your “Howl”/ “Planet Rock” comparision—and to record tonight’s dream—which I expect to find posted no later than noon tomorrow. And don’t forget! Your whole diet! Everything you eat. Everything you read, listen to or watch.

Evening.

A few friends gathered around a driftwood table laden with candles and a few bottles of wine. Tamara, Joan (Ah’s mom), and Aria are in the kitchen lighting candles on a birthday cake. They walk into the room with others, singing, “Happy BIrthday to You.” Mouths move, people sing, but in Ah’s mind there is silence and the image of Aria’s face lit by the candles.