Bailar y ritmo
bailar y ritmo
San Fransisco: cuttin’ some tracks
with another producer dreamin’ ’bout
himself being the one to take
poetry out of the Underground
once and for all. He was sure I was the one
“The Poetess” haha he gave me a hip hop
name – that fit the bill perfectly for his vision. It’s
weird being the only one in a room with an LA mind.
People talk, I always think they’re joking. I gotta get outta
that habit, stop smiling, waiting for some punch line. When
you leave LA no one out there’s got a punch line. Whatever, I love to travel
bailar y ritmo
bailar y ritmo
I’d been through that before
poetry poetry poetry beats
poetry beats beats beats
bailar y ritmo
bailar y ritmo
but afterward,
chuggin’ rum in Martin Luther King Park
drunk and making out. I heard King’s voice.
right when I noticed how beautifully blue
my producer’s eyes were. I was seeing double
but Martin Luther King’s voice was ringing clear.
…eyes that kind of blue were too innocent to ever know
the poets belong in the subversive will always be Underground
they’ll never enter pop there is no message for the dancers. I started
with a whisper as I rose up in Martin Luther King Park, out of my mouth
came the voice of that slain leader. I whispered, “I want you to think with me this
morning from the subject Rediscovering Lost Values
… R e d i s c o v e r i n g L o s t V a l u e s . ”
I got up and he watched me swing my hips back and forth some extra Betty
Boop, singing loud and drunk
BAILAR Y RRRRRiTMO!!
YAYAYA! I AM
LEAVING ON A
JETPLANE!!!
BYE
He was wasted, his blues eyes glassy,
WHERE YOU GOING?
I was still swinging my hips
“BAILAR Y RITMO BAILAR!
I’m going back to LA babe!
There is no message for dancers “
He’s still talking even though I ‘m near the street,
DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO HAVE A MESSAGE? he yells.
“NOT REALLY, NOT RIGHT NOW, BUT…”
“BUT
I DO NEED…
I NEED A PUNCH LINE baby!
“AND IT’S IN LA !”
bye- bye!
-yvonne de la vega
Photo by Desiree Barnes
© 2010