Betrayal

Don’t Know who to credit for this but it most definitely is not mine.

I was the featured poet at the Green Mill in Chicago. The Green Mill is a storied venue in poetry slam, and Marc Smith (so what!) is largely considered the creator of the poetry slam, so my getting to feature there was a big deal. As I was putting together my set, I came up with the idea of performing my first piece, Answer Me That, as if it just happened changing the location from its original Albuquerque to Uptown Chicago:

I’m sitting in a coffee shop on Central, and I’m a little shocked by what I just saw on the walk over. A white truck with a black dog in the back was hit and spun around ninety degrees. The dog became a cartwheeling bundle of black fur twisting and turning in the air for a good twenty feet. None of the people were harmed, and the cars, good old disposable cars, who cares? But the dog? He trotted back to the truck and jumped into the bed like nothing happened.

Now I can’t get this image out of my head: this black mass twisting and turning in the air, and I couldn’t stop and say I was a witness because I kept seeing this black mass that I didn’t even realize was a dog at first and I’m glad I didn’t see him hit pavement and I’m supposed to write about Kerouac. I’m supposed to write about disjointed style and verbal barrage of Kerouac and Beat Generation when I can’t help but shake and freak out. AHHHHHH!