WORLD CHAMPIONS TO BE by George Ryan
I never think about a biker’s sensitivity.
I don’t expect any to take umbrage at what I say.
As tiny girls in color-coordinated outfits
whizzed past us on scooters at high speed, I expressed the thought
that in fifteen years or so some of them will be riders
on the Ducati, Yamaha and Kawasaki teams.
I saw shock and distrust in his eyes. I had crossed the line.
14TH AND IRVING PLACE by George Ryan
I smile at a good-looking woman in her twenties,
whose tee-shirt reads in front, red on white, PUSSY POWER,
and she seems uncertain whether to scowl or smile back
and manages neither. My guess: she finds flaunting her
message scary, never having wielded such power.
In my smile, she reads my doubt and possibly a taunt.
HEAR THIS by George Ryan
When somebody on a park bench,
in a bus or on a train or
at a bar describes to you some
emotional event they are undergoing
or have recently undergone
you may be intrigued if their words and images
are not what you have heard before
or if you should happen to be undergoing
or have recently undergone
a similar event. If not,
no. You find another park bench.
Such people have a better chance
to draw you in if their emotional event
relates not to something they felt
the other morning when they woke to rain
and they could tell from chimney smoke
that it was windy and their left arm hurt
or how a partner like everybody
of his or her gender was unworthy,
if those people talked about what
anyone with open eyes can see or
consider without empathy.
And as I look at the opening lines
of your not very short poem,
I feel an opportunistic stranger
clutch my arm with boney fingers
and hear the words, Listen, listen to me.
About the Author: George Ryan was born in Ireland and graduated from University College Dublin. He is a ghostwriter in New York City. Elkhound published his WHO YOU NEED TO START A RIOT in May 2017. His poems are nearly all about incidents that involve real people in real places and use little heightened language.
That last stanza!
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