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Apr 2015
Between paternal fascism and maternal quiescence
I had my own peaces to negotiate.
I wanted to hear the big chords, the big drums, the big horns.
Rock in a frame marked "real."
singing truth to power,
That's what everyone was going to do,
and where I wanted to go.
I was disappointed that I wasn't allowed.
bitter power trips borne of disappointment
the thoughts of death and the desire
in ways so foul, it tattooed us all.
And even still I avoided
placing those artists on a pedestal,
At the theater — the velvet place
we get glow sticks with our programs.
date night for those burnished elders.
with our Pringles and our peppermints,
The night wasn't about kitsch for me.
There's a smallish riot going on
The production is low-key. The set is too dark,
After all the years of not going, it looks like I've made it.
you cannot say I didn't live
If you're lucky, and negotiate your peaces, it all comes around.
This year for Poetry Month, I decided to post a "found poem" every day. If writing a poem is like painting, a "found poem" is like sculpting. source - https://www.npr.org/sections/therecord/2013/02/21/172506252/after-30-years-i-finally-went-to-a-barry-manilow-concert
Dan Filcek
Written by
Dan Filcek  49/California
(49/California)   
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   Dan Filcek
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