THE GO BUTTON

WINNER OF THE SUMMER 2025 POETRY CONTEST

 For Curtis

I entered the crowded room with my friend Paul Revere and his

all smart-girl entourage. Our jive steps blooming alive with each stride.

The dance floor sliding to the music plucked out by the 

stoned piano player. All that rhymin’ and stealin’ and stylin’.

I thought of all those bad jobs I had and how lucky

I was to have them. The low and slow, not sleeping until

the Brooklyn train arrived. What happens next? Just a tucked

wide silence holding it all in, and someone refusing to push

the go button for the next adventure. The walk near the old

brass monkey statue at the park, singing about fights and rights. 

No one as smooth as Crafty Kathy. She kept all the choices lined

up against the brick walls. The tired posse of middle-aged men

in sports coats shaking their heads in nervous confusion.

Their ironed pants busting at the tired seams.

How many of them got late night phone calls from their

old high school girlfriends asking if they remembered 

those special times? The music bending around

them on the gym dance floor, or the quiet 

walks near the lake holding hands, then going into 

the boathouse. Not turning on the lights,

worrying a parent would wander near, who was wondering about

their solitude and silence, did anyone feed the dog tonight?

The small waves running up the lake’s bank the only

sound in the boathouse; the only sound in the darkness.

---

Christopher Rubio-Goldsmith was born in Merida, Yucatan, grew up in Tucson, Ariz. and taught English at Tucson High School for 27 years. Much of his work explores growing up near the border, being raised biracial/bilingual and teaching in a large urban school where 70% of the students are American/Mexican. An Allen Ginsberg Poetry Award Honorable Mention and a two-time Pushcart nominee, his wife Kelly lets him know when the writing is off a bit. He is trying to get better at sitting and seeing.