Poetry Slam Winner

Spring Poetry Slam Winner

Here's the winning poem from the Spring Poetry Slam.

HARD TIMES, GOOD TIMES
by George Shardlow

We are sitting in Cancun listening to "Jay" give us a tour of the resort.

He is explaining that if we were members of the "Private Residence Club," we could even ask the former chef of the King of Spain to come prepare us a meal out in the jungle (where they have spider monkeys!)

We are trying to explain to him that the only reason we are there is because we got a deal on our rental car by agreeing to come listen to his presentation on "Cancun's only eco-friendly" resort.

Rather than simply saying "no," my father starts to explain himself.

"I'm not getting a bonus this year, we have two mortgages, etc., etc."

Jay, gelled-hair Jay, perfect tan Jay, nods, faux-understandingly.

"I get it," he says, "Times are hard."

No, Jay

Times are wonderful

Hard times?

Hard times were when times were good.

Listen,

The days when we had a smaller house and our neighbors were closer,

Those were the days when we would laugh with our bellies.

The days when we had a pool and some acres?

Those were the days when I would plant my head in my pillow and think about smothering myself.

Times are good, because I finally like what I see in the mirror.

So, I don't care if I never sleep on Egyptian cotton sheets,

Because that's not hard for me to accept.

What's hard for me to accept is the idea that I would come to the land of Chichen Itza, and Dia de los Muertos, and Tecnochitlan and wall myself in with BLAH.

Because as we are walking past the pool,

I hear a teenage girl ask her friends why they don't like her.

And as we are, finally, driving away,

I see a poor, indigenous woman standing by the side of the road, laughing with her belly

Hard times?

Hard times were when times were good

Because the days when you had cancer were the days when I would think about you all the time.

So I hope hard times are here to stay.

*   *   *

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