The Night’s Unwilling to Explain: A Golden Shovel – by LindaAnn LoSchiavo

— — after Robert Frost

New York’s on fire, crime’s dishonest ache. I
Felt displaced, my mouth a gaping prayer. Where have
Benedictions gone? Sainthood’s a has-been.

The mayor sleeps with knives. He’s not the one
Who’ll fix a broken city acquainted
With this blight — where old chime clocks have stopped, with
Questions all suspended. Cops still walk the
Beat but can’t protect us.  Remember night.

Note: Source poem: “Acquainted with the Night” by Robert Frost (1928).
Note: Opening line used: “I have been one acquainted with the night.”

LindaAnn LoSchiavoNative New Yorker LindaAnn LoSchiavo, a Pushcart Prize, Rhysling Award, Best of the Net, and Dwarf Stars nominee, is a member of SFPA, The British Fantasy Society, and The Dramatists Guild. Elgin Award winner “A Route Obscure and Lonely,” “Concupiscent Consumption,” “Women Who Were Warned,” and “Messengers of the Macabre” by Audience Askew. [October 2022] are her latest poetry titles. Up next:  a tombstone-heavy collection in hardcover by Beacon Books. She has been leading a poetry critique group for two years. Her Texas Guinan film won “Best Feature Documentary” at N.Y. Women’s Film Fest (Dec. 2021).