by Glen Martin Fitch
In life we're forced
to march in step, in line.
But ragtime offers
unexpected joy and tension.
Stressing unstressed notes
can buoy us
Strolling in revolt
and feeling fine.
My friend's a radical
I'm proud to know.
To be like other kids
was not his fate.
He seeks out ways
to deviate.
It started when
he dealt with polio.
One protest
dressed in drag
we parked my van.
A hostile cop barked,
"That's for handicapped!"
So full of sass and spite,
"I am!" he snapped
and lifted up his gown.
We laughed and ran.
His graceful gate
of shoulders, hips, and feet
Was bouncing to
his syncopated beat.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011