Tuesday Poem: Published In 1986 in The Passaic County College Poetry Anthology

Hometown Visit

They tore down the Lincoln Club.

Took a bulldozer to it, and left
an empty lot where it used to sit,
big and gray and seedy
at the end of Union Avenue
breathing teenagers in and out
like puffs from a cigarette.
All those Friday dances
and Live Band! parties.

The Lincoln Club
standing on the street corner,
talkin’ jive and bein’ cool.
I danced there.
That’s where I learned to
boogaloo in soft red light,
the wooden floor waving
up and down from the rhythm
and stomp of restless saddle
shoes and Weejun loafers,
the Nicky Newark slide
and tap of soft Italian leather.

The Lincoln Club
where white boys lined the
walls like fringe
on a go-go girl’s thighs,
dancing only with their eyes,
where black boys were the
Dukes of Earl teaching us all
to spell our dreams in movement.

That’s where I learned,
if you caught the beat just right,
and gave your whole self to the music,
you might enter Motown Heaven
for a little while, float out on
the back of night
with a pounding heart,
maybe catch a glimpse
at Love - such a beautiful thing
-- so beautiful !

The Lincoln Club
coming on to both girls and boys,
getting us hooked on the hard
stuff of rock and roll
so that even to this day
I need a regular fix.

Always there when I drove by,
with a wise guy gold-toothed
smile and wink to make my day.
They finally put you away, old friend,
locked you up for good
in the ghostly joint.