Another Saturday Night

Here's a poem I drafted with my Tuesday morning Poetry Writing class after the September 17 explosion on 23rd Street (and unexploded device found on 27th Street). Dan Shefelman heard me read it at FIT's Academic Open Mic, and we ended up having some of our words included in the ChalkFIT exhibit.

Another Saturday Night

and I got nobody never

never no how no way

no day do I wake up 

in the green of a Sunday

next to a body that is not me.

No, sirree, I'm F-R-E-E

and blowin' in the wind

no sin    no ramifications

of our stepping out, stepping in

with someone who may or may not

have our best interests at heart

no tart horning in, no spin

no twisting to look thin

no morning-breath grin

and gee-willikers it's been

a mighty long time since

the lane was clear for me to pass,

keep sass, and break the fast

in the L-A-S-T gasp of a blast--

Ahem. That was it, the time we had

no alternative but had to walk past

the site, the fright of shrapnel, and we might

glaze over it's been so long

since we felt safe—

we are never safe, never safe 

never safe wind up for the throw

and place your javelin dart,

arrow, expert archery will

get you nowhere, whether or no

and I solemnly swear I will    I will

I will    I will    I will care

every time I see another news

report of the dead, stripping us bare

and elemental it’s elementary

welcome to the Twenty-First

Century where everything happens twice—

in real time and online and over

and over and over and over

it rhymes these men    these men

and boys these guns used like toys

these cries not tears of joy and when was

the last time you heard a politician

who was not a ploy? The brazen brazier

of the plain plaisir another Saturday night

and the ladies are feeling right,

the car gave us an awful fright,

the first responders are outta sight

and that is what and where and when we

must begin and end

the ever-loving better-living fight.