Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!


we just thought it was a drink,
but maybe had there been more time to think .
a cognac on the rocks and a glass of white wine
crowd thinning out cause it's near closing time
laughs, cigarette smoke, an adult's playroom
where foreplay for players who like adult freedom
and dimly dark lowlight sparks .
we just thought it was different
like a pleasant surprise
and maybe we wouldn't have said so much as 'hello'
had we looked around into other folks' eyes
we just thought it was cool
but not the rigid, frigid,
frozen, not-chosen
petrified, paralyzed
ossified ostracized
put out to pasture is the ultimate disaster
we just thought it was a glance
almost something thought to yourself
a second look, a double give and take
a 'very nice, my lady' and/or
an appraisal of the up-closer, 'hmm'
we thought it was a change of pace
an hour away, a quiet someplace
just to talk, walk, speak, peek
see behind that sudden jolt,
an electric unexpected volts
probably nothing but might be fun
if not, nobody lost nobody won
but much more suddenly than all at once,
an unexpected cloud that blocks the sun
and before we heard the starter's gun
too soon to know it was too late to run
we thought it was no big deal
we thought it had an ugly feel
a curious, furious over reaction
that there would be no end to the distractions
unless we gave up
and said we'd had enough
and we had thought it was ours.

Written by Gil Scott-Heron (1949-2011)


Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge