THE EVOLVING CITY Grisella M. Martinez   MLK JR. CENTRAL LIBRARY I. Business, Economics and Vocations The electronic queue forms here; gateway to “the internets” to chess games and porn. The handles read like West Coast liner notes, a peppering of d-o-double-g’s and suggestive connotations. Estimated wait time somewhere between dogg4life and lonelyboyxxx. II. Black Studies The emptiest room in the building, except for Dusty Rose. She rubber-stamps papers with the rhythm of a metronome; tick-tock low enough to avoid disturbing the dead wood of the tables, the pages, and one reader’s peg-leg. She cracks her spine, adjusts her pilled sweater and sharpens a pencil. She sends her shavings off the desk with a ceremonious sweep. III. History, Travel and Geography Lunch foregone, he pulls out the picture-book. Gloves off; the plaid and dust of his labor settle into the stacks. A History of Whales. He sits and stares at Orcas, Big Blues, traces their tails before propping them vertical, slouching behind them, drifting back to a summer in Biloxi splashing his sister, stomping her sand castle and telling her that thirteen “ain’t nothin’ special”; she ran away the next year. IV. Washingtoniana & The Washington Star Collection Sleeping Beauty carries too many bags; sometimes she tires from the load, sets down by the microfiche and stares at the wall (imaginary film reel running), pretend-combs her nest of hair and picks her teeth. Eyes the researchers with suspicion, and heavy-breathes between cough and snuffle. She leaves a trail of granola. V. Music and Recreation Chocolate City’s finest patrol the room like high-school hall monitors; checking for eating, drinking and sleeping violators. Shooing out the hustlers. Chastising the homeless. Every glare delivering a silent demerit. The mestizo warrior in a woman’s coat about-faces when he sees them. Each prod of their batons a reminder, that existence (or loitering) consists of assembling a life out of more than periodicals. VI. Information Desk At the fifteen-minute terminals, there is no time to search for minutiae; you must know what you are seeking. The man dancing in place knows this and keeps his shuffling to a minimum, hums to the waiting “When You Think of Love...” alternating hands between sweatshirt and sweatpant pockets. Before he leaves for the day, he announces that he is using his turn, for Googling images of Britney Spears.   Grisella M. Martinez lives in Washington, D.C. She is the recipient of a poetry grant from the DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities and has been published in The Baltimore Review and The Avatar Review. Her other passions include advocating for immigrant rights and flamenco dance.   Published in Volume 8, Number 4, Fall 2007.