Let us not forget our songs
that sang us in our times
of powerlessness,
swirling in our sacrums like
soul’s Charybdis
as our legs walked to their beats
because our hearts were
muffled AM stations,
hollow in their antiquated mono.
May we thank them on the daily
for their visions of crashing
waves and changing tides
when all we felt: feedback, static,
our own cluttered airwaves.
Originally from Columbus, Ohio, Jennifer Schomburg Kanke now lives in Tallahassee, Florida where she edits boring internal documents for Tallahassee Community College and is a poetry reader for Emrys. Her work has appeared in Prairie Schooner, Nimrod, Court Green, and Gingerbread House.