"Mixed"

http://www.thirtypoemsinthirtydays.com/

in the park
across the street
where I grew up
maybe ten yards from our slanted grass
covered combo football and baseball field
musicians a little older
saturdays would play
sax and conga conversations
background music growin’ up

jungle music
my people’s music
drums bass horns
-- saxophones –
beat that makes even wall
street go
corner boys my neighborhood
would play
background music growing up

time passed we
mixed it up
threw in some
of the written stuff
the polite perfect
no swing
fresh from the grave
written stuff

captured the bop
on white lined
sheets of paper
mixed it up
all hybrid like
soul and buttoned
down

some of us/me
no doubt
mixed it up
more than most
fatal flaw
mixed race guy
mixed it up
maybe
more than most

now growing
old
still sometimes
wonder
who the fuck
I am
seriously doubt
you understand

in-between place
people of color
non-
people of color
modern techno world
colors mixed together
sometimes up or
sometimes in.

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Aug. 24, 03:52:33 UTC
Lambertville, NJ
© Angelo John Lewis, 2004

This poem is from the ongoing project, Thirty Poems in Thirty Days. To receive new poems as they emerge, send an email with "30 Days" in the subject line to angelojohnlewis@comcast.net. To view the ongoing series, go to http://www.thirtypoemsinthirtydays.com/.
Feel free to clone this project. Or send topic suggestions or emails of support.

"see, make beauty every day"

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