I went to a poetry slam last night
and sat next to a woman of joy
we listened to poets of no renown
perform and act their poems at mike
showing youth's anger and grace with
devotion to dark and s*xual innuendo
they told of the gritty hard life
slowly rising to crescendo chanting
beatnik of today’s future always wanting
to challenge, amuse, and shock the listener
rapping rapping always tapping at the door
of deep social trials and troubled more
the applause was great and genuine
from a fairly small crowd the devoted
sat and clicked and jeered and oh'd
at Ginsberg's, and Kerouac's progeny
men and woman challenging their elders
with wanton inspiration to see today
and make a statement all their own

© agoodguy2have 2010-04-18