Peter M. Gordon

THE DEUCE - 1978

How I miss that drug dealer chorus chanting, “Acid and grass,”
all wearing black suits, sunglasses, fedoras, occupying every doorway
between Seventh and Eighth Aves. Tongues darted between teeth

like snakes trying to mesmerize me into buying their wares. Women next
to them wore bright, tight shorts, low cut blouses, in orange, hot pink, red,
to stand out from bustling crowd, cries of “want a date?” brassy trumpets

to pimp’s baritone sax helped create the symphony, along with car horns,
calls from strip club touts, “Twenty girls, no cover charge!” punctuated
by beat of walking feet. In the thirties, the song sang Forty-Second Street

was where underworld met the elite. Moviegoers from then would have
been stunned to see theater marquees offer martial arts double bills
or straight porn like Horny Stewardesses, a triple X delight, lines of furtive

men in dark glasses, hats low, lined up to buy tickets. Block between
Seventh and Eighth Aves always mobbed with people, some commuters
walking the shortest, most dangerous route to Port Authority,

tourists with cameras slung around necks wondering what went wrong
  with their guidebook, con men seeking their next mark. Once plain
clothes cops arrested a dealer three feet in front of me, shoved

him up against a wall to frisk, just like in the movies. They pulled
  a .22 handgun out of his pocket, while I gaped but most of the crowd
kept walking. Why did I love it so? Why does the toreador confront

the bull? Those dens of vice gone now, replaced with legitimate
Broadway theatres and first run films; even a Madam Tussaud’s
Wax Museum. The Lion King plays at Seventh and Forty-Second Street

in a theatre once owned by Flo Ziegfeld, now restored. Today’s ripoffs
limited to overpriced pretzels and ‘I Love New York’ tee shirts. I sip decaf
in my Florida kitchen, feeling nostalgic about long-ago bravado,

my walk past bums, whores, drug dealers, junkies, pimps, runaways,
and realize I never lifted a finger to help any of them. I did not see them
as people; they were just part of the show. Guess I was a tourist after all.


Peter's YouTube reading of "The Deuce - 1978"


Peter confesses: "I was watching Taxi Driver on cable and was struck by the thought that young people watching it today might think the film's view of New York in the seventies was a fantasy, made up just for movies. That made me reflect on my experiences on 42nd Street during those years, and why I kept going back there."

PETER M. GORDON is an award-winning poet with over 180 poems published in various magazines and websites, He's authored three collections, and his latest is Middle Age Spread, available on amazon.com. Peter founded Orlando Area Poets, and is involved in several other poetry groups. He teaches in Full Sail University's Film Production MFA program.

Jennifer Lagier

KARMA

“I think it’s worth to have a cost of, unfortunately, some gun deaths every single year so that we can have the Second Amendment to protect our other God-given rights. That is a prudent deal. It is rational.” —Charlie Kirk


It’s a bitch when karma takes you at your word,
manifests your beliefs,
gives you a taste of your rabid philosophy,
points the barrel at you, turns you into the victim.

All it takes is one more angry white man,
an easily obtained rifle,
plenty of ammunition,
a home-grown terrorist perched on a rooftop.

Uncritical non-thinkers poisoned by conspiracy theories
find scapegoats upon which to shower hate.
Corrosive social media memes demonize and enrage,
pour gasoline on the fire.

A mascot of misogyny and racism
becomes MAGA’s twisted messiah.
Careless vitriol cast over a ravening mob
catalyzes retribution by bullet.


Jennifer's YouTube reading of "Karma"


Jennifer confesses: "After reading a number of deifying headlines following the death of Charlie Kirk, I was compelled to write this poem."

JENNIFER LAGIER has published twenty-five books. Her work appears in a variety of anthologies and literary magazines. She taught with California Poets in the Schools, edited the Homestead Review, currently edits the Monterey Poetry Review, helps publicize Monterey Bay Poetry Consortium Second Saturday readings. Website: jlagier.net, Facebook: www.facebook.com/JenniferLagier/

A.C. Perri

THE MAKING OF A SOLDIER

Passionately stubborn,
Spoke your mind like you were
Born to, while others remained
Silent; not that you wanted to—
You had to; watched the earth
Turn in the opposite direction,
The blue above to crimson—
For what? A system that died?
Your voice, strong, carried
A song, named Freedom;
Liberty was castrated, equality
vanquished; it seems overnight,
The world was caught, you
The victim, the scapegoat, a
Prisoner, the escape artist—
And, they clipped your wings;
You saw the unjust, couldn’t
Stand for it— Your mind, a
Fortress, every ounce of Spirit
You had, you fought them;
Life, like vinegar and oil, turmoil
Your home, a beautiful, dismal contradiction;
Your thoughts and theirs on
Separate ends of the spectrum,
Yet, you charged straight ahead
On a steed called Determination,
Used words as spears aimed
Straight for the enemy; your
Words made a difference, you
Showed them… a good poet
Makes the best soldier.


Gerald So's YouTube reading of "The Making of a Soldier"


A.C. confesses: "The current malaise inspired the words to Making of a Soldier; English author Edward Bulwer-Lytton wrote: The pen is mightier than the sword, the words were included in his 1839 play Richelieu, or the Conspiracy. I believe words have power over any given physical force, at any given moment."

A.C. PERRI has been writing creative works for over three decades; her works have been published in local and international journals including Bootleg Magazine, Gems Zine, Brilliant Flash, and several Moonstone Press titles.

Spooky Season at The Five-Two

If you've visited over the years, you know I nod to times of the year with different logos: a neon shamrock for St. Patrick's Day, a jack-o-lantern for October, a stocking for December. A ghostly Poem of the Week is also coming soon. Wishing you the best as always.