Life is What Happens III - Leaving Suburbia

    Days are the ticking of the clock 

            goin' round, alarms sound

                beginning the day's race

            through green, yellow, red

                         green,yellow, red

            changing too fast in the day 

slowed down to flashing in the night. 

Pedestrians march past city pigeons,

             seldom startled into flight,

   church bells chiming, car alarms

   beeping and whining, merchants

    unlocking and raising their gates.

   Clank of change in computerized 

          drawers, retrograde fashions 

       clogging the stores, clandestine 

        smokers block office building

            doors. Fast cars with vanity 

    plates pass panhandlers with box 

       card signs, begging the movers 

                       for ten times a dime.

And some shady man

sellin' contra band

taps me on the shoulder

he said "We ain't gonna get much older,

seems all the world is thieves,

straight at the top,

it ain't gonna stop this

foolish land of plenty bit,

and you and I we be gettin by

by just ignoring all this shit."

He said, "Take my hand you

gotta make a stand, to deal with

this unnatural life."He said, 'Have 

smoke, you'll see it's all a joke,

then you'll be naturally aware,

then you won't have to care,

'bout sellin' and buyin'

your soul."

Wind blows suddenly

 against a porch chime, 

  angelic sound slows

   down too fast time

   jangled on the wind.

Copyright 9/94 Linda Joy Burke

This Poem originally appeared in "When Divas Laugh" Edited by Chezia Cager 

available at Black Classic Press