Still…In 2 It
M. Abduh

In my forthcoming collection, All the Stars Aflame, I have something of an ode to graffiti: a poem entitled “Burner.” It opens, “If crumbling concrete was your only canvas…” The story of ghetto youth. Those who made something from nothing. Graffiti gave us an outlet, a way to express ourselves. & for me, at that time, writing on walls was more important than writing in school notebooks. It was the closest community of writers I’ve ever known. Old heads mentored us & would scrutinize our work closer than any Comp teacher. I can hear my uncle now, “What’s up with them skinny E’s? & why would you put a shadow on both sides of the letter?”

Last weekend, I saw the unthinkable: whole car pieces on a New York City subway train. This made me go back to look at photos of old pieces & reread the biography of a style master, Brooklyn native Dondi White. As a graffiti writer, his work was flawless. His skills were unrivaled. Most writers did top-to-bottom pieces standing on a subway platform, so they could get the letters straight and proportioned. But, as one of Dondi’s fellow writers said, “This man did it two feet away from the train. That is remarkable. You cannot top that. I don’t care if you’re Picasso. I don’t care who you are. You cannot top that. When you can’t see what you’re doing until [the train] is running.”

What’s more, he did this under the cover of night with transit cops all over.

Stories drew me to graffiti. It was the same with Dondi. He told stories with Pilot markers & Rusto spray cans on everything that stood or rolled around New York City, & as his brother Michael White said of him, “He was an extraordinary storyteller.”

By the early 80’s, he moved from trains to canvases, from tunnels to galleries & was one of the first writers to have a one man show in Europe.

Dondi died from complications of AIDS in 1998. & though his work is long gone from MTA lines, many sketches, collages, & photos of his paintings remain.

“Burner” is for Dondi & every graff writer who went down into a subway tunnel, racked spray cans from a hardware store, & tagged walls, lampposts, & mailboxes. It’s for those still…in 2 it.