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The Origins of My Social Marginalization
12 minutes countdown
to the 8:15 St. George boat
so walk over to
that enormous Starbucks
at Pearl & State.
Inside, I hear that sinuous flute break
from “California Dreaming”
dripping from the sound system
then think “that’s Bud Shank!“
—he a magus of West Coast jazz,
later a first call studio stalwart
who could read
“fly shit on staff paper.”
The ultimate kudo among his peers.
I then realize
how cursed I am with a particular
knowledge which sets me
apart from co-workers, neighbors
& August’s luckless latte-sippers
who listen to the same canned goods
thinking: “that’s The Mamas & The Papas”
& see a brain kinescope
of Michelle Phillips in a miniskirt.
I then realize myself
doubly cursed and estranged
aware that the present
row of State Street’s
post-modern towers
were once rooming houses
for my landsliet
cleared for entry
& hot off the Ellis Island ferry
spending their first night
alone in this drab New World.
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Joel Lewis is the author of 7 volumes of poetry, the most recent being Well You Needn't, which collects poems about jazz. He edited Bluestones and Salt Hay, an anthology of New Jersey poets, as well as editing On the Level Everyday, the selected talks of Ted Berrigan, and Reality Prime, the selected poems of Walter Lowenfels. He has written hundreds of reviews, essays, articles, and program notes ranging from a profile of the legendary street musician/composer Moondog to visiting the Whiffle Ball factory in Shelton, CT. He has taught creative writing at Rutgers University, The Poetry Project, and The Writer's Voice. He writes as much poetry as humanly possible about his native New Jersey from a garrett he shares with his wife, film theorist Sandy Flitterman-Lewis, in Hoboken, the "Mile Square City."
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