after zumba (poetry)

I wrote this poem tonight while listening to Natalie Merchant sing songs from her new Nonesuch album, Leave Your Sleep, at a Poetry Society of America reading in The Cooper Union's Great Hall. Well, I drafted it there then finished it up just now at Whole Foods, and then downloaded this Blogger-droid App to post it. (Let's see if it works.)

I was thinking about last night's flash hail storm in Brooklyn.

"after zumba"

after zumba, I question: "What?"
the streets are wet but
there was no threat going in
hands in my pockets
I cross the blocks, soft in sneakers
I trick the locks and
close. three. doors.

— silence —

then, as if shaking inside a rogue washing machine
(the sound of grinding homemade ice cream)
through the screen, crunching ice
scrapes against salted bricks, street lights

a city's reckless attempt to scrub clean

the apartment
(still upset)
forgives me all the things I haven't done yet