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The Final Installment of Bushwick Bohemia Poetry and a Goodbye from Its Curator — Community on Bushwick Daily

The Final Installment of Bushwick Bohemia Poetry and a Goodbye from Its Curator

Bushwick-born poet, Emanuel Xavier, who has curated this monthly feature, will be saying goodbye to his hometown neighborhood.

Bushwick-born poet, Emanuel Xavier, who has curated this monthly feature exclusively for Bushwick Daily, featuring poems by local Bushwick residents and/or natives, will be saying goodbye to his hometown neighborhood.

He moved back to Bushwick in 2001 after 9/11 to be closer to his family and helped the neighborhood change as one of the first pioneer artists who romanticized the neighborhood even as far back as his poem, “Bushwick Bohemia,” first published in 1997 from his poetry collection “Pier Queen.” 

Recently married, Emanuel will be moving with his husband Brian and cat Alexis into a new home. This will be our final Bushwick Bohemia Beat Poetry feature. Please enjoy this bittersweet swan song from one of our Bushwick legends.


BESIDE MYSELF

Yes, worry.  Your time has come and gone.

There was a time you were beautiful.

You've become the father you never met.

Like how Christians assume they know Jesus

though he looks nothing like they imagine.

You are not going to be remembered.

The best thing you ever did was keep a cat

alive for over sixteen years.

All you have is that rent-stabilized apartment

with the cracked paint and broken windows.

You'll get over it. No one ever expected this

much from you anyway. You should've died

a long time ago. You're lucky. There's a man

who loves you in spite of your age and failure.

& you can still have a future, as the winter

season approaches, with someone who will

keep you warm at night and fill you up inside.

Your body may not be what it used to but

it can continue to provide pleasure.

You reinvented yourself many times before

& your mouth yet has stories to share.

Let go of the past, the revolution has fresh

faces at the forefront. Move on. Your words

can no longer signal change.  & opening doors

does not mean you get to stay in the room. It

gets crowded very quickly. You become invisible

like the dead poets before you.  Finish your drink

and grab an hors d'oeuvre before you go.  Perhaps

outside it is cold & blistery but, you'll see, that thick

skin will come in quite handy.


All images courtesy of author.

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