Sometimes I’m Gene Kelly by Louisa Howerow

Poem title: Sometimes I’m Gene Kelly Poet: Louisa Howerow Poem: I like to dance in the rain, just because it’s such a romantic thing to do. I’ve always thought so, ever since I saw Gene Kelly tap dancing on a sidewalk. Tonight, for example, I carry a clear plastic umbrella, wear my rain hat, a bow fedora, the shoes with metal taps. I hear the music in the rain, its opening bars, Doo-dloo-doo-doo-doo, and it always comes— toe, heel-tap, swing around a lamppost. I like how my street can be quiet, except for the plock of the raindrops, the slosh from a car. The front door lights are all on. I twirl, open and close my umbrella. Mr. L. Smiles, waves from his porch swing and keeps swinging. He probably saw the movie in an uptown theater, the Capital or Grand. Maybe with a chorus girl named Kathy. I kick up a puddle, don’t have to pretend I’m looking for my lost cat or skipping to the variety store for a carton of milk. Maybe Mr. L. knows the title song, can sing it. Maybe he once danced on the sidewalk after kissing his girl goodnight. End of poem. Credits and bio: Copyright © Louisa Howerow Previously published in Nimrod International Journal. Let Us Gather: Diversity and the Arts issue. ed. Eilis O’Neal. University of Tulsa. Spring/Summer 2018. Volume 61, Number 2. p. 4 Louisa Howerow writes from the traditional lands of the Anishinaabek, Haudenosaunee, Lūnaapéewak, and Attawandaron. Her poems have appeared in a number of anthologies, the latest being (M)othering (Inanna, York University.) Framed and Familiar: 101 Portraits online, and Nocturnes: Haïkus de Nuit (Paris: Editions Pippa).