Love bloomed
like the green buds of the wild weeds
under the overpass.
She lost the thread
when her ears filled with dialogue
written by devils and idiots.
Her love, in wool socks and field jacket,
lost his libido in the war
but phantom desire lives in his memory.
It isn't being coy
to hold back what you cannot save
from the black nest of loss.
Is it dusk or is she going blind?
The robot doctor holds no cures,
just needles with tiny mouths, enthroned.
Under the overpass
there is a constant buzz of insects
who live in old yogurt cups
Singing their serene song
like an engine before the crash
lifting lovers into each other's arms
somewhere beyond the wreck, beyond reason,
at the edges of sodium lights and night frights--
two sparrows sold for a penny
where crows and cats spend all night calling.
_____________
for Word Garden Word List--The Beautiful Bureaucrat.
Music: The Doors Indian Summer
The fourth stanza is my favourite. But they are all amazing.
ReplyDeleteThis poem has a very surreal feel for me. It holds a breath as it speaks and then sighs, captures a moment in time, a season of life, that is gone but can never be forgotten, nor the loss and change that sweeps through it. I especially like "...the black next of loss.." stanza.
ReplyDeleteThere must be a definite link to listening to the dialogue of devils and idiots and going blind, I think. The loss in this poem is palpable. And, I suppose, with love blooming under the overpass, it was always going to end that way.
ReplyDeleteI had my "word" all ready until I saw Joy's comment .... going to go with it anyway. SURREAL / and it fascinates. More than one read I can assure you.
ReplyDeleteA compressed phantasmagoria, Shay, pitched with the intensity of desire, loss, apocalypse, and the economy of survival.
ReplyDeleteI don’t know why, but the insects inside of yogurt cups under the overpass, really strikes me as viscerally appealing. It lingers.
ReplyDeleteThis is surreal, yet I feel somehow I've been right where this poem took me. "The robot doctor holds no cures, just needles with tiny mouths, enthroned." God I feel like I just keep living that line. Great writing as always Shay!
ReplyDeleteI wasn’t sure where you were going at the beginning, but I sure loved where it ended. POW. (Hmm… is that “Prisoner of War” or landing a punch or both?) I want to quote everything from the insects in yogurts cups (!!!) the amazing next stanza that effortlessly pivots song, wreckage, and love into our arms, and the stark “two sparrows sold for a penny” that closes us out.
ReplyDeleteI can't explain why, but this brings tears to my eyes. ~
ReplyDelete