[Music intro]

LYNNE THOMPSON: Hello! My name is Lynne Thompson, Poet Laureate for the City of Los Angeles, and I’m so happy to welcome listeners to this installment of Poems on Air, a podcast supported by the Los Angeles Public Library. Every week, I’ll present the work of poets I admire, poets who you should know, and poets who have made a substantial and inimitable contribution to the art and craft of poetry.

LYNNE THOMPSON: Poems on Air frequently focuses on contemporary poets. However, there is agreement among them that their forefathers-and-mothers set a standard of excellence that should never be forgotten and should continue to be celebrated. Among these is Al Young, appointed California Poet Laureate in 2005, the author of several screenplays and novels as well as seven collections of poetry, Young was the kindest of individuals. I’m glad to have the opportunity to thank him posthumously for his grace and generosity to me as well as his admirers in and beyond the literary community.

LYNNE THOMPSON: Today’s poem is "Dawn at Oakland Airport" by Al Young.

"Dawn at Oakland Airport"

Aggression keeps arriving but almost never departs.
As quiet as it’s kept, greed bops along for the ride.
Do you need James Brown hollering in your ear
at 6 a.m. when you’ve gotten all of two hours sleep,
misread your itinerary and coldly missed the flight?
I can’t stand it, either, James. The Godfather of Soul
and all the other Godfathers share a mission this morning,
and that’s to put another hit on peace and quietude.
You don’t need no Johnny Cash, no saxophone quartet
version of the Temptations’ “My Girl,” no “Goldfinger,”
no “Ring of Fire,” no Earth, Wind & Fire doing “Hearts
Afire,” no jaunty disco deco from the decadent Seventies.
What you need is Z’s and more Z’s—Zambia, Zanzibar,
Zihuatanejo, no Canal Zone, Zone 51, UFOs, out of here,
out of ear shot surely. And when two advancing armies
in the war on silence conjoin, when the foreground music
of Gate 10 crosses across Gate 8’s background music,
you know no zone can ever be demilitarized again.
Green, brown, the hills that ring this East Bay underdog
airport can’t compete, and sky—O lazy, hazy sky of summer,
what brings you here in April?—the sky is battling, too.
Give us Slim Harpo: “The sky is crying;/Look at the tears
roll down the street.” Give us liberty to choose your death.
The breath you hold whispers the unspeakable:
“Can things actually get any worse?” Yes, saith Phoenix,
yes, saith Las Vegas, Los Angeles saith yes, and Houston agrees.
By the time you get to Newark, maybe the Sopranos and
all the electronic pianos in the world will have gone on break.

LYNNE THOMPSON: The Los Angeles Poet Laureate was created as a joint program between the City’s Department of Cultural Affairs and the Los Angeles Public Library and this podcast is available wherever you get your podcasts. Thanks for listening!

[Music outro]

• Back to Poems on Air: Episode 79



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