The Exchange is the Weekly’s poetry corner, where a poem or piece of writing is presented with a prompt. Readers are welcome to respond to the prompt with original poems, and pieces may be featured in the next issue of the Weekly.
Definitely late, but here. by Chima “Naira” Ikoro
After Notebook Kid by Eve L. Ewing
I missed my exit on Lakeshore Drive and I’m rushing cause now I’m late and I look over and see you, can’t even see your face you carry your mood in your walk that’s the same energy radiating from the back left corner of the room not a word spoken unless I speak directly to you I can’t even be mad at you, I read what you wrote and it said enough turns out without the pressure of participation you have time to think and decide and even if you’ve decided you don’t care about any of this you might just be here so you don’t fail and I can’t even be mad at you, your playlist must be great your ears came in the same box as your headphones I can’t even be mad at you, until now. I’m watching you walk the opposite direction of the school and I know you’re going to the gas station and first period starts in a few minutes and you are in my class except you’re not you are crossing the street I am out of breath running up the stairs when I get there and see the back left desk empty I realize it really was you and I can’t even be mad, you walk in hood on mask on jacket on ears on your headphones and you go to your desk and you never open your laptop you use your laptop as a plate for some chips and I can’t even be mad at you, I ask you if you got them from the gas station that I watched you walk to and you ask how did you see me? and I say I have always seen you.
Prompt:
“Write about a person or experience that you unexpectedly gained wisdom from.”
This could be a poem, journal entry, or a stream-of-consciousness piece. Submissions could be new or formerly written pieces.
Submissions can be sent to bit.ly/ssw-exchange or via email to chima.ikoro@southsideweekly.com
Featured below is a response to a previous prompt from a reader who is currently incarcerated. The last poem and prompt can be found online.
Doubt by Justin I Dismuke
Chima Ikoro is the Weekly’s Community Builder.