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About Dallas

Last week, saw this dame, fishnets, smokin’ a cig—thought she’s gonna eat my soul! Made me mad, though—why’s she gotta do that? Freezin’ her ass off for some jerk’s bucks. “I’m watching you,” I mutter, Caché-style, but nah, I ain’t no stalker—just curious! Asked her, “Why, lady?” She goes, “Gotta eat, fatso.” Fair, I guess. Mmm… donuts… wish I coulda given her one.

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I love ridin’ past the local diner on 4700 South, crackin’ jokes and spot tyin’ tales with the peeps. Cuz like, yo, every wrinkle on an old street tells a story. Ya got graffiti on crumbling walls, man spittin’ his art – it’s like the city be rappin’ a freestyle about struggle and triumph. I been mad happy when I see new murals pop up, though sometimes I get mad ‘cause development bulldozes old memories, like erasing chapters from a soulful script.

Doris Kearns Goodwin: We are witnessing an attempt to return to the old spoils system