For Felix Kumi, school bus driver,
killed by police gunfire August 29, 2015
by Merimée Moffitt
Bedford Ave, Beekman Ave. and 3rd Street
understood Felix who in turn understood the danger
as he slowed his steps, heading home on Friday night.
The cop was undercover, revved up for the gun-buy, ready
for a fight. Felix didn’t make it home that night. Bullets
“went awry” the police chief said. Felix died in the overkill.
“Good morning, Sunshine,” he might have said on Monday
to the little girl with bows and shining eyes. Hey man and some jive
to boys who rode his bus, as their sisters and their brothers had.
On Friday afternoon, Felix gave his last ride, smiled his last
hello goodbye, bent down the last time to welcome kids.
That strong arm turning the wheels on the bus no more.
And the bus goes on and the bullets fly and for this, Felix
will never retire. He’ll be watching the children, but he might ask
a single favor, asking all to forgive the killers and the killed.
The gun dealer’s kids, too, may have ridden Felix’s bus, never knowing
what we know about undercover busts, about how enticing
it is breaking bad, to run with bad boys for the money.
Felix likely sensed the danger as he walked home Friday night
a witness to the cops n robbers’ plight: cops zero, citizens two, downed
for good: Felix innocent bystander, caught bullets meant for a younger man.
Never meant for him but for a brother or his child, for his angry
neighbor’s kids gone wild. Even cops’ kids rode his bus. Felix died for
the wrongness of it, the waste of beautiful lives in this ugly ugly game.
I hope Mount Vernon gives Felix a placard on that brick wall where he fell,
in memory for all he did, for kids, for his family, his courage to stand and witness
to protect and help someone, if he could, when the bullets “went awry.”