15th Street, Lawrence, Kansas
Nights we can’t afford the $3 cover,
we drive down the dirt road and brake
beyond the barn, under wide prairie skies
as stars blink in surprise. We’re out
of the house, past the place where sidewalks
end, past rows of cornstalks and the scarecrow
that guards the cinderblock slab. Inside,
cheap drinks, a bare wooden stage waiting
for Bad Brains, Circle Jerks, Fugazi, Nirvana to ascend.
We wait, watch, nod as young men scream-sing-wail.
I leap into the air, throw myself on the mercy of the crowd.
Outside, yellow corn’s cradled in husks. Its tassels wave in
the night air. Inside, three hundred arms raise and carry me,
a tide of Hallelujah.
© Marceline White
A Baltimore-based artist and activist, Marceline White’s writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Scrawl Place, The Orchard Review, The Indianapolis Review, Atticus Review, Snapdragon, Little Patuxent Review, Please See Me, Quaranzine, Gingerbread House, The Copperfield Review, The Free State Review, and others; anthologies include Ancient Party: Collaborations in Baltimore, 2000-2010, and Life in Me Like Grass on Fire. Essays, op-eds, and other writing has appeared in Woman’s Day, Baltimore Fishbowl, Baltimore Sun, and Mother Jones. When not engaged in activism, she can be found learning how to better serve her two cats, posting too many pictures of her garden on social media, and reminding her son to text her when he arrives at the party.