Tag: Keith Welch

Here in the Future

By Keith Welch

The Future Ain’t What it Used to Be. –Yogi Berra

 

We were promised flying cars,
and condos on the moon, even
racial equality: all those great sci-fi gags.

Those were the glory days,
the Future. Everything polished
smooth and covered in chrome.

In the fifties, we had the scent
of unlimited progress in our
exceptional American nostrils—

the Future marched forward,
smelling of plutonium and plastic,
with just a hint of napalm. The Future
chanted loudly as it came on.

Then the sixties were assassinated
and we got the hard word,
written in blood: that much
optimism might be overly optimistic.

Welcome to the future, where flying
cars remain scarce, the moon remains
distant, and we have all the equality
our police will allow.

 

Keith Welch lives in Bloomington, Indiana where he works at the Indiana University Herman B Wells library. He has no MFA. He has poems published in The Tipton Poetry Journal, Open: Journal of Arts & Letters, Dime Show Review, and Literary Orphans, among others. He enjoys complicated board games, baking, talking to his cat, Alice C. Toklas, and meeting other poets. His website is keithwelchpoetry.com. On Twitter: @TheBloomington1.

Image Credit, “Modern Kitchen” by Mike Licht.

Cop Sonnet

By Keith Welch

We’d like to think that all our cops are fearless

that their well-trained minds are sharp and quick

but certainly they’re worse than useless unless

they can tell a pistol from a stick

Or when a suicidal person’s begging

for an ending to their tortured grief

does a policeman’s duty include abetting

desire for a terminal relief?

The cops who will not see us as their equals

will never act as though our lives, too, matter

and so we’ll go on seeing violent sequels

where more of us will end up dead or battered

Of course the real problem: our society;

the driving force: our middle-class anxiety.

 

 

Keith Welch lives in Bloomington, Indiana, where he works at the IU Bloomington Herman B Wells Library. He poetry has been published in Writers Resist, Literary Orphans, and Dime Show Review. He is currently writing a series of poems about how much he hates the winter in Indiana. Read more of Keith’s work at librarymole.wixsite.com/keithwelchpoetry and follow him on Twitter @Outraged_Poet.

Photo Credit: You can’t barricade an idea by Dying Regime via a Creative Commons license.

White Privilege

By Keith Welch

 

the U.S. Caucasian has
a marvelous power

invisible, noticed
only by its absence

subtle in action:

the lack of a shadow
following you through a 7-11

or utterly, terribly clear:

the lack of 19 bullet holes
piercing your body

on the news, you may notice
your senior photo
instead of a mug shot

in the city, the absence
of a cop’s hand
in your pockets

in your car, a warning
instead of dying
in a jail cell

there are those who will deny
the power’s very existence

it shouts its presence
to those outside its shield

 

Keith Welch lives in Bloomington, Indiana. He has had work published in Louisville’s Leo magazine, and online at Spilling Cocoa Over Martin Amis. Follow him on Twitter: @outraged_poet.

Photo credit: Image of Ti-Rock Moore‘s sculpture “Just Sayin” by Bart Everson via a Creative Commons license.