I eat potato chips
after a work-out.
Sometimes I sneak
a smoke.
On tired nights I refuse
oral hygiene.
I get cavities.
Often, I don’t cook
for my kids.
I trim my own bangs
and harbor my own thin line
of resentments.
I yell at the dog.
I shove the cat
on better days.
I pick my teeth
and the walnuts
out of my chocolate chip cookies.
I don’t make my bed.
But then, I do.
And in case you were wondering,
it’s true:
I speak ill of my friends
and my parents
and my children
and everyone they know.
But I pass, sure.
A proletarian to some.
A Samaritan for many.
A terra cotta statue,
a Chinese brush stroke
a faux finish
a bas-relief.
Listen to my tone, now!
A perfect pitch,
harmonious hum,
the tongues of angels.
I lift.
But listen for the bells;
the sound of the alarm.
There comes the time
to alleviate the weight—
lighten the load—
unleash the burden
to prevent chronic fatigue;
repetitive stress.
My house is in shambles,
my body a mess,
my thoughts huddled,
shivering in a murky brine.
Friend, won't you carry my bundle a while?
Brother, can you spare a spine?
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5 comments:
really enjoyed this -- spontaneous smile, recognizing it. I fell out at 2-3 places -- the title, love Dr J but not sure about mincemeat pie. also, last stanza, "thou art with thee" ? you are with you? not sure what that means. otherwise, though, i love the brazen self-revelation -- see how bad i really am, people? sassy, banking a flow of tears with laughter. good stuff.
a few of the things I especially liked:
* the title (even the mincemeat pie :-) ) -- great music to it.
* the rhyme tween I do and it's true.
* the beautiful transition from prose/literal to verse/symbolic-like (a faux finish, a bas-relief. Listen to my tone, now! A perfect pitch..."
* the whole penultimate stanza.
a couple of things I wondered about:
* the "oh, but I can pass. / oh yes " transition (not the idea of it, just something about the beats -- wondered if mebbe there was another way to go about it, condense it)
* thou art with thee (to second lemonblossom)
* and the last line ("turn me over..."), which seemed mebbe a little more familiar & less personal/specific than what came before it.
Great stuff.....
-Cecil
What's funny (odd-funny, not ha-ha) is that I began writing with the bastardization of the Biblical "Fear not, for I am with thee." I was determined to find a place for it. It didn't find one naturally and it sticks out like a sore thumb.
As with so many things in life, sometimes you just have to let it go. I'm grateful for each of your good and trained eyes to help with that process.
First of all, Erin, I think this poem is wonderful - funny, heartfelt, and beautifully written, full of resigned and whimsical self-revelation and acceptance. How brave of you to not only tell the truths we all struggle to hide from ourselves and others but do it in well-metered verse.
Not to quibble, but in verse five would that be 'proletariat' or do you mean proletarian? I don't know myself, but something about the line bothered me.
A couple of other things: I have a little trouble - just bump a little - on verses six and seven - something about the change in meter. But you know, I'm not a very sophisticated reader of poetry, so take that into account.
And I REALLY don't buy the 'brother can you spare a spine' ending. It's too judgmental for my taste, to much a summing up and finding fault with. And I don't really want to be told what I should think or feel. I prefer ambiguity.
Great poem. Thanks for letting me read. Tom.
Well, here's something ha-ha-funny (not odd-funny) I LOVED the brother can you spare a spine! Everyone sees differentely.
This poem resonated with me, every line, every step of the way. but you must have changed it since these comments.
And the changes were good.
xoxo
ml
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