Trying to write

poetry by candlelight

in an NYC club

with soca music

& chitterchatter—

the soul/ the heartbeat

of fantasia

& sinister night time

post midnight;

dreaming of love;

all the hopes failed

with imported beer

from South

of the border

& the perpetual

poetic solitude

in full force

waiting for the band

with rasta speak;

ain’t in sync

with false vision of gospel

St. Mark’s fails

to make a dent

& Senegalese cuisine

sitting uncomfortably

in my gut

no one said

the plight

would be easy

& it sure as Hell

hasn’t been


October 11, 1992, Manhattan


Author's Notes/Comments: 

Mighty Sparrow playing at S.O.B.'s down on Varick Street.  I'm not even sure if the club is still there now.

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wordswordswords's picture

"& the perpetual  poetic

"& the perpetual

 poetic solitude

in full force"


love it.


georgeschaefer's picture

muchos gracias--less solitude

muchos gracias--less solitude than we like to admit though.

patriciajj's picture

You captured the pulse and

You captured the pulse and ambiance perfectly. I was there . . . and didn't have to worry about social distancing! 


A very enjoyable night out. 

georgeschaefer's picture

back in the day when you

back in the day when you could go to a live event and have a drink and try to write poems on napkins by candlelight.  I remember fondly.  thanks for dropping by and commenting.