Saturday, November 2, 2019

IF THEY TURNED OFF THE POWER IN BROOKFIELD VILLAGE IN 1957

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IF THEY TURNED OFF THE POWER IN BROOKFIELD VILLAGE IN 1957

by
Sheryl J. Bize-Boutte


If they turned off the power in Brookfield Village in 1957
The air would be overfed noisy with voices
Sprinkled with sugar
From that girl who always laughs the loudest
Roller skates whirring on pavement
Interrupted in syncopated rhythm
by the evenly spaced cracks
Bikes tearing up black asphalt
wearing headlights
And AM radios
Blasting KYA and KEWB
Because the power would have been turned off
At KSOL

If they turned off the power in Brookfield Village in 1957
No one would be inside
Except stinky old lady
Frances from France she said she was
Cause she never came out anyway
But she had the old icebox
To save us all
And the smoke filling the air
Would not be from distant fires
In neighborhoods we had never heard of
Or sidewalked on
Or bicycled on
Or radioed on
But from the bbq pits
In the center of every back yard
And from outdoor fireplaces
Surrounded by children
Making marshmallows golden gooey
While they giggled and laughed right into the
No school tomorrow

If they turned off the power in Brookfield Village in 1957
We would have known
How we all were doing
By sight
Touch
Smile
Voices that came straight
From human mouths
We could not be shut down
Without access
To next door
We would just
Walk
Next
Door
And knock
And ask if
Everyone was all right
And then if
Mr. Butler or Mr. Osgood
had enough gas in the Buick
or the Chevy
To go to the other side of town
Where we heard
 the lights were still on
If they would be brave enough
To take the chance
On unapproved entry
Into forbidden territory
For more ice
 And cigarettes
and royal crown if they had any
with the blue velvet bag
that would be mine this time
And be sure to get the ice cream
We would all scream
As we watched them slowly drive away
Then we would have waited nervously
And played with a nagging knowing
Flash and candlelight ready
for their safe and victorious return
And oh lord
When we could yell
Here they come
The air would return and
We would run to meet them
As they turned the corner
We would open their doors
Before the complete stop
And they
With unsteady hands removing caps
brow sweat revealed
peppered with questions
wringing hands and broad smile rapid talk
would release the bloat
in stomachs filled with stories
about what may have happened
if they turned off the power
in Brookfield Village
in 1957


copyright© 2019 by Sheryl J. Bize-Boutte
sjbb-talkinginclass.blogspot.com

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