Deep in the Boogie Down— the bassinet of the boom bap where the trinity is The Treacherous Three, English is the third language behind Bronx and Puerto Rican, and I was nervous because I only speak Catholic school and I'm a Red Sox fan. I'm just a student of KRS-1, not a son, on a train fourteen stops beyond my comfort zone hiding behind headphones coughing bass, and a backpack full of lyrics: Notorious B.I.G., Rakim, Perdomo, Run DMC, Brooks, wanting to be real cool, wanting to be their "dawg"— but feeling like a mailman, another Elvis to the students I will lead through a workshop in a language I itch to get my rusted cavities around.
From Vacations on the Black Star Line. Copyright © 2010 by Michael Cirelli. Used with permission of Hanging Loose Press.
Michael Cirelli is the author of several books of poems, including The Grind (Hanging Loose Press, 2013).
Date Published: 2010-01-01
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/birthplace