Monday, March 30, 2009

New Poem

Finally, a poem for March! This is a pre-pre-NaPoWriMo poem. Clearing out the pipes, so to speak.

April is almost here. Do you know where your poems are?



Views from a Slow Moving Train

On the commuter rail to Boston
I am flanked by the backs of houses,
uncut yards stretched along a metal horizon.
This city behind the city is a trash barrel:
rusted bicycle rims, soggy couch cushions,
last fall’s leaves in the crook
of a chain-link fence.
Foreclosed. Abandoned. Still life.
Exteriors stripped of interiors,
Doors without knobs, frames minus hinges,
shadows flickering against the chain
of a door no one will walk through.
No day is promised in this hardscrabble,
fucked up journey.
Every few yards a swing set passes,
free of rust, waiting for a child
to plop her bottom on the plastic seat,
kicking her legs into the sky.


(I borrowed and adapted the line "shadows flickering against the chain" from a C.K. Williams poem.)

5 comments:

odessa said...

"Every few yards a swing set passes,
free of rust, waiting for a child
to plop her bottom on the plastic seat,
kicking her legs into the sky"

these lines are heartbreakingly beautiful. i love how you showed us the stark reality of those abandoned houses and the hope in these final lines.

Maya Ganesan said...

I really love the imagery in this. Could've been a painting. Lovely.

January said...

Thanks Ladies. Just wanted to get something on paper in preparation for writing a poem a day.

(Maya, sorry for the swear word.)

maureenpoetryblog said...

i like "no day is promised," especially as part of this collection of images you've assembled. so many of them each had their own promise at one point: the house/home, the bike, etc.

i stretched my napowrimo muscles, too. i think you're right about not starting cold!

Maya Ganesan said...

I didn't really mind it :)

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