Broke-Ass Stuart is now accepting poetry submissions to be featured in the BAS Poetry: Arts & Culture column. Written & curated by Corinne Avganim.
Photo credit: NPR.org
What do you do most Fridays? Me — I sit around the house with buddies, drink too much and watch music videos on YouTube. During last weekend’s session, NPR’s Tiny Desk Concerts series was looping (shoutout to the homie, Sherman for the VJing skills!) and eventually came to Chance the Rapper’s. It was pretty good. Then surprising.
In the middle of his set, he broke out some POETRY, which I later learned he wrote in the short time it took him to drive from his Washington, D.C. hotel to the NPR offices. Pretty cool.
THE OTHER SIDE
Chance the RapperChicago, Illinois
I still haveAll the keysThat are of no use to meThey used to, though
On the other sideWas a mansion on a hillComplete with L.A. pools and fireplacesAnd a rim made specifically for people that lie about being six feet to dunk onWhere piano was for decorationAnd an old record player was actually for the hosI was never awakened by the twisting of the door knobBenzos kiss me goodnightThe bars finally stop workingThey used to, though
On the other side was a presidential suiteComplete with living rooms and empty bedsAnd a rainfall shower head fixtureAnd the freedom to smoke big dopeAnd smoking fees alsoAnd the possibility of making a beautiful girl I just met map out in her mind just how many times her apartment could fit in this roomIf I could just get in, but the card stopped workingThey used to, though
On the other side was a family complete with carpet stains and big gloves and “it’s your turns”And toys all over the placeI almost fell and broke my fucking neckAnd responsibility and refrigerator magnetsAnd days on the couchAnd nights on the couchAnd lines drawn in the sand and comebacks that cross the lineAnd a hornline from our favorite makeup song playsAnd all of a sudden, just like thatWe’ve rehabbed a phoneThe barge stopped workingI still have all the keys that are of no use to meThey used to work, though
***
The End by Alex Solis, Threadless
Not too shabby if you ask me. Do you have a commuter poem? Something you jotted down in a flash because you just couldn’t possibly keep it all inside?? To submit a poem, email [email protected] with your 100% original piece of work, full name, age, city, links to social media, and (optional) biographical blurb.
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