JUST ANOTHER NIGHT TOM WAITS ON THE STEREO Poem by Tony Nesca


JUST ANOTHER NIGHT TOM WAITS ON THE STEREO
out my window on the 18th floor
view of downtown skyline and
old warehouses of the exchange district
looks like chicago
beautiful and terrifying
urban madness
down at street level
hot summer night
some young punks get into
punching clawing beating
with vicious precision
ungrateful at their luck
of having been blessed with
geography
would you rather be in afghanistan?

the violence continues
i call the cops
i scream at the moon
STOP THE BULLSHIT
why, i say,
WHY?
there ain’t no solution
there can’t be
we were wired faulty from the beginning
it’s not about toxic emissions
or environmental rape
or serial killers salivating
at the
crotch
or planes slamming into the
world trade centre
or america with its hidden agendas
or canada with its indifference
or europe with its pseudo-sophisticated elitism
or street gangs running the streets
killing
like that’s all they know,
it’s about US
US,
every last one of us…

i look back down at
the street, the cops are hauling
the punks away
i smile,
there’s a knock on my
door,
mike says it’s time for a drink
“i got to tell you about emma” he says,
happy
red cheeks
electricity in his hair.
“let’s hear it” i say…

***


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