Today's poem is by Jennifer Wallace
At the intersection: burnt August fields
At the intersection: burnt August fields and blistered streets.
The city readies for summer's last fling.
Vendors circle the band shell
with curried goat and Red Stripe beer. The sound man
"check, checks" his mics and Marley's wail unites
with insect wings and chicken smoke and air.
Where is Jamaica? Baltimore? Where?
Tonight they reside on music's continent
behind the chain link, where holstered cops
keep peace between the races
who don't appear to need much help...
they boogie bum to bum under the moon
and all the colored lights and everyone singing One Love.
Copyright © 2012 Jennifer Wallace All rights reserved
from It Can Be Solved By Walking
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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