ALONG THE FENWAY
Noisy boys in their uniforms
pushing through the turnstile
down under Comm Avenue
I saw the future in somebody’s hand
they’re gonna steal a wallet–
what does it matter when you’re in-between
the black sheep and the chosen one?
the choirs all sing for you–
along the Fenway–
Beautiful my fellow, tart queen of the back bay
shaved his head looking for what he lost
there goes the preacher thinks Jesus told him
something I don’t know–
listen the voices crying, saying mass
awaiting my conversion
I’ll cross the sound for you–
along the Fenway–
Grabbed his daughter by the wrist and pulled her up the stairs
spit on the platform, kissed her face
who is the father descending as I pray
to look the other way–
all around the furrowed brows
on the outskirts of this famine
seek an answer
gotta tell all the children too–
along the Fenway–
Vocal, Piano Siersema Cello Eugene Friesen Additional Vocal Alastair Moock
c 2008 Laura Siersema
“Laura Siersema’s neo-classical piece ‘Along the Fenway’ is storytelling bliss…”
