Nine-thirty / a Walk Poem (NEW YORK)

Hello! Welcome to Nine-thirty- a “walk poem” I recently wrote for a poetry workshop I’m taking. Teacher’s and Writer’s Magazine does a great job describing what a “Walk Poem” entails. Though really, it is what it sounds like. It’s a poem that requires a walk.

This poem means a lot to me for many reasons. I think it captures the feeling of vulnerability, fear, and powerlessness that women sometimes feel, walking down the streets of any city.

I was asked to speak/perform this poem to my class and while doing so, the entire time I felt an acute sense of strength. Nine-thirty will probably present itself differently depending on the reader, but to me, it’s a poem about honesty and demand for more. A demand for a decency, for a baseline level of respect, to be given the space that we all deserve.

Trigger Warning

This poem hits some sensitive themes. So I wanted to offer a trigger-warning for sexual harassment/assault and political voice.

yours, Belle

Nine-thirty

Prickly wind and dancing sticks
Swirling the waltz before me
My canter isnt as graceful
 
Swishering cars off in the distance
Dividing engorged blocks
Elastic strides wont shorten the swell
 
Torn back brownstones
In the throes of Brooklyn
Her pockets are deep and capricious
 
I like this area
It has that real neighborhood feel
Like its people have spanned generations
 
Not yet swept by gentrification
I wonder whose watch decides
Who am I to comment
 
I hate that statement
Why must we silence and impose prevention
Canceling questions sparking opportunity for reconciliation
 
PC and AI
The four letters preventing legitimization
Certain subjects for certain circles
 
Commanding no conversing
Of topics not held firsthand
Or at least not by those
 
Who may grace the presence of those 
Who could reinvigorate and suppose
But if no one goes and tries to show then no one knows and nothing ever implodes
 
Or so the story goes
Am I a person 
Or am I just a woman
 
Alone on a walk
After dark in Bushwick
Suddenly its obvious
 
In the end
Regardless
I am just a woman
 
An electric bike hums
Behind my minds noise
I forget its there after a while
 
Abruptly it revs as I step aside
the thief snares my ass 
in an attack by his hand
 
he yanks and chortles
and cleaves time in half
his grip is hard
 
it pulls and it snags
it hurts and it violates
it takes and it takes
 
Then its over all at once
Time slams double
And I scream and I stomp
 
And yell YOU MOTHERFUCKER
At the top of my lungs
But no one hears me
 
And I am strangled by the startle
I am overcome with disgust
I feel shriveled and frozen
 
How could I attract something so repulsive
Again
I am just a woman
 
How long was he staring
What was he imagining
Was a second act in planning
 
I grit my gait and grind my jaw
Feel air freezing tears
I didnt feel fall
 
Once more
I am just a woman
I cant unite us all
 
I am fury yet feel inferior
Looking around
All the other bikers
 
Have become potential offenders
I no longer feel safe
So I retire from solving the political race
 
My bones feel heavy and burn with a reeking
Ill scrub out the marrow
Its such a particular feeling
 
Every time its the same
A paralyzing shame
A what if a what then a what now kind of game 
 
Stars like magnets 
Hooking like bait
Who did I think I was walking this late
 
I confirm my ride