she needed to tell her story
& that was her night
she walked into me
from the night
a bottle of vodka
a bottle of pineapple juice
on the street outside
i copped many wacks that night
raped by her father & grandfather repeatedly
20 years in prison
broken
i thought
tonight's the night
she's ready to tell her story
i got her on the bill
but boy did they make us wait
people were yellin at me!
to quieten her
to bourgeois neurotic tastes
i was gettin hit by her!
as people bitched & moaned
about HOW HARD it is being middle class!
i thought FINALLY some context
people were yellin at me
i was gettin hit by her
as people bitched & moaned
she was sayin
THIS IS POOR MAN'S EMINEM
WE'VE HEARD IT BEFORE
IT'S GOTTA COME FROM THE HEART!
some she liked
never been to a poetry reading before
she didn't know THE "RULES"
finally after hours of being beatin
& people yellin at me
i was up first
I HAD TO SET THE CONTEXT
i talked about a sexual assault i suspected & called in
& how the cop was tone deaf on the phone
she told her story
trying to communicate something of her hard fought wisdom
to young people
but what i learned about the WOKE SET
is that they don't see themselves in others
they see a "subhuman/untouchable"
she put $200 on the bar
& we drank $100
then when we were done
i was barred for 2 months
starting a series of barrings
for anonymous complaints
i'm done for in the poetry scene
& it's painful
my perilous health has suffered immesurably
i'm at a loss what to do
people gossip about me wherever i go
none of them able to tell
what great crime i've committed
other to show loud & clear
that classism is a massive problem in this country
& how low on real (not conceptual) compassion the new left is
people are sacred
& it starts with the intimate infinite
what we find on the street
u can't judge a book by the looking at the cover
we're all born equal
& some of us like my mate need more help
& true justice will never be won when we close our hearts to those we meet
"Sarah" should have been welcomed into a room with the sign ALL WELCOME outside
but like mary & joseph & the donkey
u all said
NO ROOM LEFT AT THE INN
i walk alone
& few even acknowledge me now
former acquaintences i thought friends
fickle
yoyo hearts
networkers
our poets are pragmatists
viewing people as stereotypes
objects
turning their backs on people of the real life
save us ur moralism
"Sarah" said it was the greatest night of her life
Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2026.
Comments
Post a Comment