"It is 12:20 in New York a Friday
three days after Bastille day, yes
it is 1959 and I go get a shoeshine
because I will get off the 4:19 in Easthampton
at 7:15 and then go straight to dinner
and I don’t know the people who will feed me
I walk up the muggy street beginning to sun
and have a hamburger and a malted and buy
an ugly NEW WORLD WRITING to see what the poets
in Ghana are doing these days"
and I wanted to take a stab at imitating them using life in Roswell, instead of New York City.
Its 3:40 in Roswell a Friday
the day of the rivalry game, yes
its Milton and Roswell, 2011 and we stampede into Taco Mac
because we get the 20% discount for students and are on time for 6:30 tailgating in the parking lot
and 7:00 kickoff, where up in the stands flour is thrown and no one pays attention to the game
only the drum line and no one cares about the score until the very end
I swim upstream against the angry mob of hormonal teens
and scour the stadium for my sister and her friend and buy
a overpriced Dasani water to support the PTA
in whatever unnecessary fundraiser they try to support these days.
Let me know what you think.
I loved the structure of his poem, but wanted to include the fundamentals we talked about in class.
No comments:
Post a Comment