Stone Soup Croutons is a weekly poem I write using lines and impressions picked up from poems overheard from Stone Soup's open mic readers and features. I figure out a title (and sometimes the rest of the poem) later. You can read the other ones I've done since 2015 here. To paraphrase Lorne Michaels, this poem doesn't go up because it's ready, it goes up because it's Friday morning.
At last night's open mic, we were entertained by bassist extraordinaire Ethan Mackler, who not only had solo sets on the open mic (playing along to a Jack Powers recording at one point) but also performed with mime-at-large Marty Levin and played alongside James Van Looy. The title of today's poem comes from the nickname I gave Ethan years ago. Thanks for reading.
The Pulse
They say bless the amputee
who still has something to give
as long as one remaining limb
can be fitted on the rack.
They praise Super Tuesday
when candidates compete
for Übermensch. So unsubtle,
their followers wink anyway.
Soon we'll know the one
our parents will worship
before they ask us why
we no longer attend mass.
Time for another bass beat.
Don your kuroko clothing
and dance like trees at night,
taunting those locked in homes.
Interrupt passersby. Tell them,
I am schizophrenic and I am not
and what's your excuse? Those life
choices with no voices in head?
We were all dissidents before
the hip stores came out with
the dissident uniform. We can
ward off the likers of What's Next.
Part the crowd with your stand
in place. Fold hands onto wrists,
find heartstrings' forgotten tune
and tap into own hidden parade.
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| Ethan and Marty, Post-Performance |
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| Gawaine: "I cna't go first. I'm number 3!" Me: "Same difference!" |
Special thanks to Gawaine Ross, Ethan Mackler, Jack Powers (by way of Ethan Mackler), Martha Boss, Marty Levin, Julia Vogel and James Van Looy.
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