Driven
after Papa Ibra Tall’s “Harlem”
We do this because
we cannot stop
can’t stop wanting both worlds
the one that pays
for food and rent
that fancy car
and the one that’s spent
conjuring beauty—
a chord structure instead
of a corporate one
that eyes-closed moment
of clock-stopped harmony
amid adult life’s trumpet-call
a reveille of worries.
Yes, for this stretch of song
we’ll forget
the parents, a pebble’s throw
from heaven
the kids, our rippling
worries over them.
For now, we play
play music
feel alive
live and feel
children ourselves
once again.
*
Not Another One
You don’t want to read
another sexual
assault poem
and I never wanted
to be qualified
to write one
but here
we are.
*
Jill Michelle’s latest poems appear/are forthcoming in Brink, New Ohio Review, The Orchards Poetry Journal, and Valley Voices. Her poem, “On Our Way Home,” won the 2023 NORward Prize for Poetry. She teaches at Valencia College in Orlando, Florida. Find more of her work at byjillmichelle.com.
Both powerful, relatable poems. Thank you for your writing. I only have one side of this worry sandwich left and it’s enough:
the parents, a pebble’s throw
from heaven
the kids, our rippling
worries over them.
Thank you for your powerful, relatable poems. I only have one side of this worry sandwich left and it’s a lot:
the parents, a pebble’s throw
from heaven
the kids, our rippling
worries over them.