Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Stroller hit a bump.
Baby flew out
face first,
onto wet pavement.
We the bus crowd,
groaned in alarm,
watched helpless,
ready to help,
while momma,
quick as magic,
scooped her lovey dove up.
Little one cried so loud,
her mama's cooin
was silenced lip sync,
but we the bus crowd knew,
that that cryin,
meant baby gunna live.
We relaxed,
checked our watches,
resumed waiting.
A few of us
lit cigarettes,
to help
tune out the bitch
asking outloud,
why wasn't the kid strapped in.

awww.... i'm glad she was alright

i'm a big fan of eyewitness reporting poetry

loved the line "scooped her lovey dove up"

there's a bitch in every crowd.. no doubt about it

how's the new job? e-me

this has a journalistic feel to it that is unusual. the lines are like shorthand delivered and give the piece a sense of spontaneity - and it's cool!

yeah, buses can be temporary intense communities!!!!!! I enjoyed the read!!!!

love this docu-poetry
love arcadia's comment about sudden birth of community consciousness - when all are witness to the same event

and yeah, good the kid's alive
and of course, someone has to say the obvious about the seatbelt mishap.
that's community!

good work, hester, bus journalist, pen in hand for such occasions