for D.M.
You buy your anger by the carton,
light the tip and watch it smolder. You're
still here, what's one day less from a doubtful
future. Not all grow older. Smoke
rises
at the trial of your sister's
death at a stranger's
hand. Your mother's
cry in the courtroom when they read the charges
to the bland-faced
man.
"Indignation to a body",
adjourning to
your mother's
scream.
You flick
the Bic,
inhale tobacco.
Exhale:
dirt
dead leaves
charred
flesh
Daleen.
7 comments:
This is powerful, especially the first stanza and the inhale/exhale near the end.
The phrase "at the occasion" sounds a bit wordy. Maybe something like "when your sister dies at a stranger's hand"?
Mmya - it was suposed to be "smoke rises/ to the occasion" but I couldn't read my writing (it was all done in tiny script on the back of a debit slip yesterday, in a waiting room)
I altered it slightly from both those versions, thank you Joanne.
(I'd never show it to the person(s) written for but it is a gut-wrencher for me. Affordable therapy for artists?)
I like the first stanza and parts of the second, but then it seems to dissolve from poetry to perhaps notes towards a poem? The simple facts of it aren't enough to carry the poem if you do wish to move the poem from therapy to poetry.
The end is the ashes falling off the cigarette? :)
I wonder if the last stanzas (starting at "You flick..." that Marita is questioning could be worked into an intro -- begin with the breath and those meaty, terrifying images of the first three stanzas become the exhale?
A thought.
OOH _ I like the idea of inverting the whole thing, Kerry. Thanks. The first stanza would become the last.
Hi Andie,
This packs a punch. I like Kerry's suggestion - starting with "You flick the Bic", the exhale, then progressing to the opening stanzas. I like the spaciousness of the breath, the space to digest what's happened, which would still be effective starting the poem and powerful on second read.
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