This Too A Poem
Speaking truth at the mic with notebook, with guitar, with typed page,
with iPhone, with hands shoved in pockets, with 2am approaching
with knowing anything done after midnight is art.
The madness in the moment,
the self haircut, the can of beer, the fighter,
the math teacher, the queer poet whose voice
is pure song . . . the geometric performance of truth and what
we say is the truth.
Rocking in your back row chair you go to the front to
lend your voice, sing your song, speak your life, join
the fiber of this night, this midnight mic, this pure grain
flow you come to know when you look this close & listen,
the lives you see, the colors you feel, rhythms alive in the air,
people like you
people not like you,
poets off the street,
army of letters, word delivery,
bringing it, winging it, singing it
behind the mic tonight at midnight.
Or, How we know we're alive.