Robert Hershon Presents a Poem by Michael Cirelli

This poem by Michael Cirelli first appeared in Hanging Loose 92 and later became the title poem in Michael’s first poetry collection, published by Hanging Loose Press in 2008.

LOBSTER WITH OL’ DIRTY BASTARD

The broken down fishing boats on the docks rock back and forth
as if there is music in the air. Norma Jean, Captain’s Girl, Jenny,
    all hips and
bounce – shimmy shimmy ya in their slips.  Across the street,
    Randazzo’s Clam Bar,
“the pride of Sheepshead Bay,” bustles. Inside, not fisherman nor
    pirate, but rapper
Ol’ Dirty Bastard has his own seat, where he reigns with sunglasses
    and a vinyl bib.
Dirty likes it raw, so raw he fathered 13 children, and when he
    rolls up to Randazzo’s,
in his black school bus with 24-inch rims, his clan of offspring
    pour out like bass.
Mama Randazzo sighs and smiles that forced diagonal smile,
    as she drags 6 tables together
There are platters of mussels and little necks with mouths
    wide open!
Dinner rolls bounce off the walls like handballs!  Sword fights
    break out with shrimp
skewers, the toddlers wear calamari rings on their fingers like
    diamonds, and lil’ Rusty
does the fake-sneeze-trick that leaves an oyster in his open
    palm.  Ol’ Dirty is ravishing
a huge boiled lobster, drawn butter dripping down his
    chin, as he cracks open the claws
with his golden fangs.

-- Michael Cirelli

             I knew there was a second reader appearing with me at Brooklyn College’s “Day of the Poet” a couple of years ago, but I had no idea who it was. Then I found his name in the program, one Michael Cirelli. Never heard of him. That’s all right.  He was identified as “a hip hop poet.” Hmmm, that didn’t sound so all right. I braced myself for some noise, attitude, and easy rhyming.

            Michael’s half of the program started out with brief readings by three young poets who, I later learned, came out of the programs he directs at Urban Word New York, which uses hip hop to teach poetry. The kids were experienced performers and the work, as it zoomed by, was better than I expected. I began to relax my old-fogy stance a bit.

            “Lobster with Ol’ Dirty Bastard” was the first poem Michael read. Not at all what I expected! I thought it was terrific. I loved the evocation of the Brooklyn setting (with Mama Randazzo’s phony smile speaking volumes about the degree of welcome extended to large black groups in Sheepshead Bay) and the bigger-than-life figure of Ol’ Dirty. By the end of the reading, I had become a fan and I asked Michael for poems for HL. As I got to know him and his work, I learned that, yes, his knowledge of the rap scene is encyclopedic, but he also holds an MFA from The New School and is thoroughly comfortable in both worlds. I also learned, to my surprise, that Ol’ Dirty Bastard was a real guy, but that the scene in the poem is a total invention. Michael’s book manuscript took me further into a world where place, music and family all interact vibrantly. I think it’s safe to say that the book is the only one you’ll find that has blurbs from David Lehman and from Kanye West.

            -- Robert Hershon