Sunday, March 27, 2011

Sixteenth Avenue

Seattle’s Sixteenth Ave’ teems
with dream-dawn neighbors
from immigrant lands.
We gather in shared schools…
Immaculate, Maryknoll, O’Dea
and Garfield.

Spring and summers crowd
with capture-the-flag, touch football
or shooting the “pill”
until the hoop disappears with dusk.
We twist, stomp, slow dance to 45s
“In the Still of the Night…”
We drive and make-out in Seward Park.

We ride the 27 Yesler for a swim
In Lake Washington until Matsudaira’s
buy a black ’57 Ford
and Joe and Ed drive us.
Cool.

Years later, I score a ’56 2-door Bel-Air Chevy.
Copper with glass pacs, silver moons and rims.
I was cool too.



Dance Lessons

We rush home after school.  Watch American Bandstand.
Dick Clark emcees songs, singers and performers.
We get to know the Philly kids as they Strand, Twist and Bop.
Roy raves about Bunny Gibson, a slim blonde.
I find Arlene d’Pietro, an Italian brunette, more attractive.
Program ended, we play 45s and imitate their steps.
Alone in the evening, I practice with my bedpost.

Weekends arrive, we find a dance with a live band.
The Stags, our favorite since we know the musicians.
They play “Louie, Louie,” “Blue Moon” or “J.A.J.
We rock, stomp and Pony to “A Quarter to Three.”
Better yet, grind in slow dance
and rarely move a step.

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