Circa 1968
In a Hawley Street laundromat,
the urban housewife’s last resort
become a resource for hippies
I am waiting for our clothes to dry
sitting atop a washer, reading a paperback
my feet draped in front of the window
We’re all cool
A helmeted motorcycle pilot
escorting a pretty, braless lady
hurries in the door
He walks directly toward me
“Are you Ralph?” he demands
“No, man. Sorry.”
His girlfriend, almost panicking, looks around
“Does anyone know who Ralph is?”
The washing machines continue
their low and persistent rumble
A black kid folds clothes on a table
No one admits to knowing who Ralph is
The Women Who Held the Ground
Three women tested the limits of what a meeting designed only to discuss “how” would allow itself to hear.
The recording arrived before RIOC posted it. On this island, that usually means they’ll release it when they’re confident nobody still cares. ArchRI simply made a copy available, the way people here tend to do once they’ve stopped waiting for institutions to keep their word. It was the first meeting of what is now meant to be a monthly community advisory group (CAG).
