Off Beat Poem by Glen Martin Fitch

Off Beat



In life we're forced
to march in step,
in line.
But ragtime offers
unexpected joy and tension.
Stressing unstressed notes
can buoy us,
strolling in revolt
and feeling fine.
My friend's a radical
I'm proud to know.
To be like other kids
was not his fate.
He seeks out ways
to deviate.
It started when
he dealt with polio.

One protest
dressed in drag
he parked his van.
A hostile cop barked,
'That's for handicapped! '
So full of sass and spite,
'I am! ' he snapped
and lifted up his gown.
We laughed and ran.
His graceful gate
of shoulders, hips, and feet
was bouncing to
his syncopated beat.

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