BLUES AT THE RISING SUN

she's my sweet little thing, he groans
heads nod
feet tap

because
she left him
and he's gonna kill anyone
who messes with her

you don't come between
the sweet little thing
and her lover boy
if you know what's good for you

inevitably
someone comes along
to warm her heart
and steam her loins

someone
you could never know
you don't even want to know
his name

he changes her
every time he looks at her
he raises her on his wings
into the warm summer sky

while you stand
in the frozen storm
ringing the bell
hammering on the door

across town she's yelling
at her 3-year-old daughter
give back the man his money
he just laughs and says that's all right honey

you just keep the money, go
get yourself a doll
and leans back on the sofa,
settling in for the night

blow smoke rings at the light
the night and the blues
check out the girl
with the frizzy hair

this is all about
how everybody needs
some kind of insurance policy
because you never know what's coming down
down the stairs
she flips her hair
throws back her head
and sways to her seat

bouncing hips
and confidence
shakes her head
when asked a question

culture shock
for the girl
from Defiance, Ohio
this is mojo country

I'm everything
to everybody
I snap my fingers
you feel the pain

baby! baby!
baby! baby!

I want to pick you up in my arms
and whirl you around the dance floor
your face
the face of every woman I loved

and still you
and your warm breath
on my neck
and the lights in your eyes shine red
like the rising sun


The next day, John Newlove talks with Gzowski about poetry. Newlove says there's no reason to write a poem ­ it's a foolish thing to do. By the way, asks Gzowski, what's this post-modernism anyway? Who knows? they laugh. It doesn't get any better. Is poetry popular? and... John, are you popular? and... are poets making a living at it? Are they like other working people, getting up in the morning, having breakfast, then writing their poems? Name two, challenges John. OK, let's hear you read your poems, and can you talk about what we're supposed to be getting out of it? Are we missing out on something?

The private world of poets writing for themselves and other poets writing for themselves and other poets. But British publishers say poetry is back in style, attributing the surge and flowering of poetic writing and reading to a new aggressive approach to marketing poetry, which has gone a long way toward changing its dry, elitist image.


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