POEM: we were burning

we were burning

in those days we skipped the folk songs
made speeches to the pounding drums
of Michael Franti & Spearhead
a righteous fire blazed in our guts
kept us warm through the lake effect winters
we were burning, we were burning, we were burning

we ran through the streets of Rochester
with the police hot on our heels
cops shouted our names through bullhorns
but careful hands passed us through the crowd
like children under the protection of the village
we slipped into an alleyway and were gone

a decade on, I sit at my desk eating a banana
listening to Spearhead in my button-down shirt
watching the plugged-in, tuned-out faces
cross the campus outside my window
I put my hand on my much more ample belly
to see whether I can still feel the flames

10 January 2013
Auburn, AL