Goldflower
Note the twenty year old rebel
with a precocious kid
a Martin acoustic
and soprano inherited
from her mother
the most famous band
you’ve never heard
Goldflower
on the cusp of the seventies
a trio of women
performing in prisons, festivals
open air shows
I was the kid
with a tambourine
hanging out backstage
babysat by audiences
everywhere, anyone
running onstage
when my song started
don’t want no chain reaction
music kept her alive
during those years
a single mother navigating
depression, bad boyfriends
the memory of a fierce
heroin addiction, kicked
silver tracks still visible on
guitar honed arms
I was the kid
the back of the college classroom
pretending to take notes
with a fat crayon
we went everywhere together
I didn’t need much parenting
even at that age
I was the carer
keeping her anxiety under control
I stayed close
held her hand
at Randall’s Island
we were waifs on stage
a single mother
and her hammy kid
warming the audience for Jimi
Goldflower tapped deep-seated anger
from the women in that crowd
singing against their abusers
partners, fathers, the government
the men standing next to them
our conjoined naivety
in the face of such radicalism
created a time bubble
freezing us there together.
somehow this ending has too much closure for me
ReplyDelete... there's too much of a 'this is what it all means / adds up to' equals sign hanging over it
and
the men standing next to them
does seem like a strong ending
because it makes the real conditions so immediate
(I mean the entertaining going on in the otherwise unnoticed real conditions of women's lives)
That’s excellent advice, Kit and just what I needed. Thank you.
DeleteI do agree with Kit, the poem should end with the men standing next to them !
ReplyDelete