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Stengel Avenue Symphony

by savage writer 2 years ago in performance poetry

It's not over until the lady sings the anthem

This place has significance.

Live from Stengel Avenue.

The South Ward in Newark, New Jersey.

Mic check, 1 2 1 2—sound system on point.

Ight, ight, right, go.

Come on in, the water’s fine.

You will not drown.

You will not drown.

You will not drown.

Give me the mic, please give me the mic—

dis looks like a job 4 me

Wait, never mind

I was wrong, or not.

I would look at the man in the mirror, but he too ugly.

His breath stinks, I don’t know.

How many people tried to protect me

And I let them die?

I let them folks die.

Is this hot enough for ya???

How many poems were in this book again, damn—

a nigga must have forgotten.

Boi, what the hell?

Wanna burn my book now

wanna burn my book now

Cars ain’t everything

The bus is much cheaper.

What about the subway?

Depends on where you livin

Forget the check now

Niggas losing their mommas and daddies

they dropping dead like slaughtered hogs

Graveyards are overcrowded

You gotta burn them dead ass people

You gotta burn them dead ass people

The school district is a mess

Lack of funding for programs

Kids can’t even go on field trips

I don’t know if the schools are safe either

Yo’ kids ain’t safe either

They’re in danger, stranger

They’re in danger, stranger

Be on the lookout for a school shooter

Each classmate should take turns keeping an eye out for one

That M16 gone exterminate the class of 2026

Textbooks from 1996 that teachers are still using

Kids do too, but they’re ripped to the spine.

These streets are quiet as ever

We know that’s not a good thing

At least not in the hood

Not in the hood

Not in the hood

Not in the hood

Dudes line up for shoes

But not for jobs

Dudes line up for the new 2K that just dropped

But not for jobs

Not for jobs

Not for jobs

How about the entrance to the nightclub?

Not for jobs tho

Maybe the bouncer makes a killing

Not the attendees

Not the attendees

This is the climatic ending to my symphony

A young black boy talking abstractly

Talking that shtick talk

Lick talks lick talks

I don’t rob to get wat I want

I’ll drop bands on it first

Even if I get my chain snatched

Let them have it

I can buy another one

What you can’t buy tho is life

Life is priceless yet trafficking still happens

Life is priceless

Life is priceless.

performance poetry

savage writer


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