In a car is still
in the morning, yet
slowly the trees and earth
creep by (shoemaker’s elves)
they pass, equidistant, radial,
like nautilus chambers--gray-
green. and indifferent but
they are the golden ratio
they stand, and stand and look
for the bus, their cool impersonal
eyes all turned in one direction
unblinking, unforgiving, they
say to me “I know, oh, I
know what you have done
and you are part of us, and
we are part of you, it is”
(
and here is where I pause
the eruption of my chest
tangible, what is that cotton in
my throat, why do my eyes
burn so,
i am not you, second grade girl
your pink overcoat, it was bought
one day, but not a special day
and look how it is frayed and
how you are longing, yes, i
know your longing and perhaps
i have known more, i have known
the stinging of a plastic lunchbox
the stinging of a plastic mediocrity.
)
“the way things are and the way they were mean to be.”
PC: This poem is unfinished and not very good. It's how I was feeling at the time, but I got interrupted and I had a big catharsis session with a friend. Now I want to fix it, but I'm having a hard time.
2 Comments:
Well, I don't understand a lick of it, but the section "they stand, and stand and look/ for the bus, their cool impersonal/ eyes all turned in one direction" brought up a startlingly clear image of a morning bus stop in my mind. The little girl in the pink overcoat (your highlighting of the day it was bought and the fraying captured very well the medicroty inherent in a morning mus stop scene) fit in here, so I kept the image. Really, this poem left me with the distinctly indistinct tired longing that one feels while waiting for the bus in the early morning, so I thought that was what the poem was about. Not that poems are ever about what they are about, of course. :)
I also agree with la corazion, that the line "the stinging of a plastic lunchbox," by its placement and repetition in the next line (which is very good as it is) just doesn't hit you as hard as it seems like it should. Perhaps a better explaination or mention of a plastic lunchbox in the earlier parts of the poem could remedy this? Oh, but now that I think, I realize how a plastic lunchbox *would* sting in this situation...
I'm thinking too much. Good poem. Very you.
Foremost, I celebrate your comparison to nautilus chambers, very creative and clever choice. I personally wanted a break, be it enjambment or a period.
I also was drawn to the parenthetical/introspective portion that I found to be much more potent than the first section, each line seems to surpass the previous. I am assuming as well that "mediocrity" and "mean(t?) to be" were intended to rhyme, which I also enjoyed.
Equally eloquent imagery, one of your regular fortes. And overall quite surreal, but a surrealism that is much more addictive than repelling.
I am eager for you to post the revised addition.
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