“Dance Radio”

By Thomas Page

I am student teaching a senior level class in Washington, DC. They have to write some poems on these prompts. I decided to try all 30 of them. However, I will not say what the prompt was but what it number was.

Prompt #12

Sitting in the car fiddling with the radio

The beat of some aughts tempo

Ringing through the speakers

As my GPS makes noises louder than sneakers

Across gym floors on the day after waxing

The sun, imbued with traffic, waning

My day into night, city lights

Begin to parley with the traffic cresting heights

Given names of presidents and states

As the person encased in steel waits

For the gridlock to detangle now

People are beginning to row

With the anonymous drivers

Blocking the box, urban survivors

Of the mix ups that the lowered phones cause

When recalculating like a Ming vase

Teetering off the domestic Doric

Precious as the skull of Yorick.

The song changes suddenly and now

I’m off tempo.