the poet stands with his pen 

against a wall of armed men 

 

graffiti artist punched and kicked 

making a clip on the way to the gig

 

he thinks of Kitty Genovese 

Phil Ochs and hootenannies   

 

imagines the beatnik chicks

black tights and cigarettes 

 

singing to a circle of older men 

holding guitars like airplane kits 

 

with a feeling absorbed against

backroom curtain and online texts 

 

of justice in black and white 

obvious wrongs in daylight 

 

a war in color 

in the nation’s den 

 

becoming 

the stuff of entertainment

 

after polite applause 

and conversation 

 

he stays to listen 

to the other men

 

in the front the students enter

trivia night and happy hour 

 

bar ups the volume on the game  

the time of troubadours returns

 

next month 

first Monday at six