DNA

Another chain bakery,
bursting up through the concrete
in a stretch of anonymous strip mall.
We all need soup or a bagel sometimes,
But the soul numbing recombination of stores
that spiral through our streets,
is too often mistaken
for the sequence of DNA
that makes up these suburbs.

We drive thru and we eat
and we peel our names off the cups
before we discard them.
If they feel like empty calories,
it’s because they’re not what feeds us.
It’s the artists, despite their tiny scraps of budget,
who feed these towns.

You might not notice them at first,
But If you are tuned to pick up their signals,
they appear everywhere.
The tiny flicker of countless acts of courage, of honesty
broadcasting from a brilliant illumination of strange souls,
flooding theatres small enough to get lost
in the clearance aisle of a big box store.
But bringing enough energy to blow out
the lighting section at Home Depot.

This is what energizes me long after
I’ve squeezed the last drop of caffeine
from my cappuccino.
This whole population
of talented weirdos, claiming the corners of our cities
and scribbling over the margins with magnificent murals,
Singing out their dreams and tragedies, with piercing clarity.
Writers speaking intricate inner worlds into existence,
and using their words to strip this world down to bare essence.
Open souled dancers leaping past the retail monotony, building their
own combinations of DNA up through their feet and out across the stage,
and moving us all with them.

This, is what nourishes us.

– DNA © Mike Chernoff 03/10/2023