Saturday, January 2, 2016
last night of Last Night...
A mirrorball, disco's effigy of creation,
hits the becoldened streets of New York NY -
steel and glass, stamped in series AD
exploding while viewed at a safe distance.
Meanwhile, in every part of Detroit...
Gunshots report their mourning for Summer's
more plentiful, bursting fireworks.
Welcome, year 2016... Chill, have some drinks;
pulsing lights of our brightest red and blue flare,
ubiquitous sirens screaming many names.
Ballistic lightning arcs high over heads,
glass shatters, shimmering under LED pure white
radiance; the end for empty bottles sailing into
a morass one hopes would be more familiar by now.
We have survived the rust and the wrecker,
the scrap man's foot soldiers,
and the New York Groove.
There, out east...
they smash glass balls year after decade
and it gets nation-wide TV, every time.
Here, we still stand out in the cold by the straits -
we greet new beginnings with warm, well-armed
ferocity and no small measure of passion.
Also, a sober and wary glance, something shared,
I'm certain enough to say -
born from decade after year of trying not to look
like we're expecting there to be some kind of catch.