Hello Neighbors,
Can you believe it’s already that time of year? Yes Neighbors, we have already arrived at Watchers’ Week! That special time of year when we celebrate and honor the history of The Ones Who Watch. In the interest of our new Neighbors, we at the Committee for Community Correspondence thought we’d share a brief history of Phoenix Town’s Neighborhood Watch.
On July 6, 1992, Marsha P. Johnson ascended into the cosmos, making herself comfortable in a particularly peaceful curve in one of Saturn’s rings, when she noticed a small hole in the curve’s bend. She pressed her face to the ring’s soft arc and what she saw almost made her weep: Marsha saw God greasing Their scalp on the steps of the Supreme Court. She called down to Them, waving ‘til They looked up to meet her face. The two beaming at each other, God motioned for Marsha to join Them there on the steps. To her, the distance between them seemed vast as if God were eons down below on Earth. But as she rose to meet Them, Marsha took six steps down and there she was. The two laughed at the melodrama of time.
“So beautiful!” God said. “Thank you!” The two said in unison.
“People always said, ‘God is everywhere.’ So, you’re here now and—”
“Everywhere, Chile. Just like they say.” God closed the lid on a jar of JAM. “Here, lemme show you.” Marsha took Their hand. “Everything a we do up here takes a whole lotta energy to make it heard, felt, seen, or even smelled on Earth. Earth’s vibration is lower, up here’s higher. Say you wanna…I dunno…send a blue butterfly across one of your old friend’s paths. You gotta lower your vibration a little to balance it with Earth’s to make it happen, to make them see it.”
“Wow.” Marsha said. God went on.
“But say you wanna appear to somebody or throw your voice—that takes a LOT more balancing.”
“So six steps is the middle ground,” said Marsha. God nodded. “…the counterpoint. Does that mean it takes less balancing from here?”
“Exactly. You can do just about anything from The Sixth Plain.”
“And you can see so clearly too!”
“Marsha, can I show you something?” God asked. Marsha agreed and followed Them to a mammoth porthole, an unblinking eye hanging in the abyss. “Look here.” Marsha stood in front of the massive window.
“What is it?” she asked. “Where is it?”
“Today, it’s Vanport, Oregon. Soon it’ll be Phoenix Town.”
“Much better.” The two replied in unison.
“But what’s so special about this place?”
“Something’s growing, Marsha. It’s big and dense. I don’t know what it is exactly, but I can feel it from here.” God shuddered, excited. Marsha’s eyes widened.
“What does it feel like? Can you see it from here?”
“Yes, you can! And it feels…dark and moving, like—”
“Like a shift?” Marsha interjected.
“Girl—BIGGER.” God replied, Their voice booming so deeply throughout the galaxy, a small constellation fell out of place. They smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I get excited.”
“No, no—go on!”
“It’s like anywhere the truth has been hidden or twisted or abandoned bein’ made right all at once. But violently and with great, great force.”
Marsha stood silent for several seconds. God worried They’d said too much.
“Violent?” whispered Marsha.
“As in swift and certain—without remorse.” God said, matter-of-factly. Marsha was quieted by the whim of her thoughts spinning scenes of imagined violences with gathering speed. She was not frightened, but she was curious. “It’s better if you just look.” They watched the simple town as people wandered around on its innocuous green squares. Marsha looked on, but saw nothing spectacular.
“I don’t know what I should be seeing.” she said, darting her eyes around at the smallest details.
“Don’t blink. It’ll come.” God replied. Marsha expected it to be harder than it was. But there the two stood, as a purplish haze fell over the town like a slow curtain being drawn across a screen turning Vanport, Oregon into Phoenix Town. Marsha’s pupils purpled as she gazed upon strange sights of things out of place and time, but just as they should be.
“God, it’s beautiful. I mean, I don’t see all the violence you were talking about, but—”
“That’s ‘cause Phoenix Town isn’t where the violence starts, it’s where everything new will begin. But it will survive the violences that precede it.”
“Are there other towns that survive?”
“There are. But this is the only one that sits directly on The Sixth Plain.” God answered. They turned toward Marsha.
“Ah.” she turned to face God. “You’re watching it from here so you can manage what they do next. Make sure they don’t fuck things up agai—oop!” Marsha put a hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”
“Oh girl, please.” God waved off Marsha’s concern. “I don’t give a shit about that.” Marsha laughed behind the hand that still covered her mouth. “I wouldn’t call it, ‘managing what they do next,’ so much as communicating. We’re talkin’ ‘bout a group of people who’ve lived through empirical terror and its collapse. They need love and assurances, honey. Protection and guidance. What hindered them on the outside is what will haunt them from the inside. And if they don’t have somebody watchin’ over them while they figure that out? That’s what’s gon’ fuck things up again.”
Marsha leaned against the window, her eyes fading back to brown. She felt some impulse rising from her belly, radiating out to her arms and fingers. Life had been so long. She wanted to rest. And she wanted to help. Marsha did not miss the world, but she loved its most holy people: the ones who knew and named their multitudes; the ones who reflected the Universe’s myriad face.
“What is it?” God asked.
“I wanna help. I mean, I wanna do what you’re doing for Phoenix Town. Not that I want to be God—I don’t wanna be you…”
“You wanna watch Phoenix Town?”
“I do…”
“…but?”
“…but I just want to rest, God.”
“Oh—honey, I hope you don’t think I’ve shown you all this to nudge you into watching over this place. I just love talkin’ about it…maybe a little too much, and maybe a little prematurely. But I was never trying to rope you into working in your afterlife.” God said, taking her hand.
“No, I know. What I'm trying to ask is, how can I help and rest at the same time?”
“If you want to help, I will see to it that there will be others to help you, Marsha.”
“God, no one even lives on The 6th Plain—there’s nothing here!” she replied, looking around at the glaring void that surrounded them.
“You let me worry ‘bout that, Marsha. Earth still has some years to go before Phoenix Town needs watching. You go back up there and lay down.” God said, pointing back up at Saturn. “I’ll wake you when it’s time.”
And so, Marsha returned to Saturn’s 7th ring and laid down. She would sleep for 28 earthly years before God woke her, just as They said They would. When Marsha saw what God had done on The 6th Plain, she gasped. Flanking the giant porthole window were 359 smaller ones, separated by 1° to complete a 360° ring of observation. The 6th Plain had been expanded outwardly, which allowed you to roam its full circumference. God went on showing Martha all that was new about The 6th Plain, nervously hoping she would be pleased.
“I told you there would be others to help you.” God said, leading Marsha to what looked to be the opening of yet another empty void. “Why don’t you knock twice, right there.”
“Where?” she asked, looking for a solid surface.
“Anywhere…” God answered, failing to cool Their excitement. Marsha tapped her knuckles twice and as the void slowly gave way like a pair of French doors, behind it stood a long black table surrounded by 359 empty chairs and one at the head. Before Marsha could remark on the absence of people, figures began to silently materialize in the once-empty chairs: children, parents, lovers, siblings, friends.
“God!” Marsha quietly gasped. “I don’t even know what to say, I—”
“You don’t have to say anything.” God said, still holding her hand as Marsha squeezed with the arrival of each new person. “You’ll all watch Phoenix Town. Together.” They said, as the 359th figure appeared. Marsha waited for the figure that would be seated at the head of the table to arrive, but they never came. She turned her head knowingly at God who silently motioned toward the empty chair, and Marsha was seated.
And thus began the first meeting of the Phoenix Town Neighborhood Watch and its original 360 ancestral members. Each one looking upon Phoenix Town from their respective porthole. They observed fear, danger, signs of greed, hesitations, errors, suspicions, signs of empire, signs of institution, threats from the past, and threats to the future. They sent Phoenix Town their love, their assurances, their warnings, and guidances. They watched then just as they do now and we are ever indebted to their ancestral vigilance.
On behalf of all of Phoenix Town, we would like to wish Neighborhood Watch a very happy Watchers’ Week! Below are the names of The Ones Who Watch, as they are known or have presented themselves:
Jayland, Oluwatoyin, Lemma, Brazil, Jesse, your mother, Denise, Cynthia, Tituba, Atatiana, your sibling, George, Tamir, Breonna, Aura, Ahmad, Michelle, your father, Gabriella, Amariey, Tatiana, you sister, Margaret, Michael, your kin, Ariyanna, Tanisha, and more…
Neighborhood Watch — “Do not look behind you; turn your gaze inward…”
This week’s message from Neighborhood Watch was channeled by Bonita Belle*
You misdirect your concern. What hindered you is behind you, while the long arm of its ghost dwells within you. Do not look behind you; turn your gaze inward. There are the hands waiting to take, the mouth waiting to devour, the eyes waiting to curse and covet. Gaze your thoughts as the clouds that roll by. Pay attention, pay attention.
You are safe from past evils. Save your future from yourself.
We love you. You are seen and sustained.
—Your Neighborhood Watch
Events About Town | This week’s Events About Town celebrates Watchers’ Week with a photo collection of the Neighborhood Watch around town, captured by Phoenix Town residents!

New Neighbor Spotlight | M Curtis
Originally from: New Iberia, LA
Aided in The Fall: by organizing the Southern chapter of the nationwide capital strike of 2021
Favorite Color: Forced Pink
Favorite Song: Higher Love by Steve Winwood
Hobbies: baking, bitching, and Beyoncé trivia
Horoscopes, July 14 | by Stephon Lawrence
I met a buffalo once
cigarette between his teeth in a courtyard—: he blew smoke through his nostrils & into my mouth
he burned into my palm: what kind of smoker are you?
casual; chronic; social
[read social as: drunk & enamored] breath heavy as steam engines, he always
stands on top of me as though he wants to crawl & buck inside of me
I wear him around my neck & thumb silver nickel-holes into my throat; clay-coat esophagus to store our lighters & ash there
in the spring we plant
flowers & smoke them: harvest tulips; they taste the sweetest teach me to roll the perfect cigarette &
I’ll lick spliffs shut without looking you in the eyethings I will need in the future: a proper ash tray &
a way to remember your voice
when I can’t feel it curl
around my knuckles like smoke & cheap tobacco ash
The Community Action - If you see a pair of young pale children selling lemonade on the sidewalk without a permit on the corner of Spruce and Butler, you are urged to call the Phoenix Town Court of Reckonings IMMEDIATELY. This is serious, Neighbors. Failure to report these acts is a violation of Phoenix Town’s zero-tolerance policy against capitalist acts of any kind.
Remember, Neighborhood Watch is watching.
This has been your bi-weekly newsletter.
—I’m your Neighbor, Sasha Banks. Under the eyes of the future.
The melodrama of time. Watch members in the woods. All weekend I will be thinking of Phoenix Town <3
yooo! the timing and significations of Saturn are so wonderful loud! Marsha’s 28 years of rest and Saturn’s 28 year synodic cycle are wonderfully aligned! amongst many other correlations . i love this newsletter 🙌🏾✨