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Her knees jut
Above her hips
As she sits in the middle,
Feet firmly on hump—
Sandwiched sister
Brother on either side,
Their legs spread
Wide as History.
Matt’s head lolls,
His curls matted in a reverse tonsure.
She cannot look at Joe—
He naps with half-mast eyelids,
Like her busted Sleepy Suzie
Who long ago joined
The Salvation Army,
Clad only in her ripped sleep dress.
The car meanders past fertile fields,
The road a wire, dotted with
Christmas light silos
And barns.
But she is hot-cramped
And pissed—
Compressed by a vise of siblings.
“We’re not pressed for time – I’ll take the scenic route.” he says.
But she redly needs to get there.
Be done. Move faster.
Do her own taking.
A body slumps her.
Her elbow slowly sandpiper beaks his side.
He wakes, snorting—
And stretching…
She seethily recedes. |
Written by NathanRoberts (277 comments posted) 23rd July 2008 | Wow. Some great lines in there: 'But she redly needs to get there.' 'A body slumps her.' 'Her elbow slowly sandpiper beaks his side.' 'The road a wire, dotted with
Christmas light silos'.
'Do her own taking' seems to connect with the driver taking the scenic route, but hints at something much deeper. Her inability to look at her brother and the 'vise' of the two siblings, also the more than slightly shadowy 'legs spread
Wide as History.' and 'ripped sleep dress.'
It could all be relatively innocent stuff, or there could be something much darker going on. I like the ambiguity, and thought your handling of the imagery was excellent.
| Ambiguity...
Written by amsford (17 comments posted) 23rd July 2008 | ...was unintentional, definitely! (Or as my students would say... defiantly!)
But, now that I go back and re-read it, I completely understand how one could assume that there are dark undertones. I like that it can be read in more than one way... thanks for pointing it out.
Slainte! | No Nathan
Written by patterjack (1435 comments posted) 23rd July 2008 | I can't see any darkness in this-- and I have an unfortunate tendency to read more -- what shall we call it -- sensuality ? -- into things than most people seem to !
Road trips for children are much the same the world over , I think :
often interrupted by the repeated dry
| error !!
Written by patterjack (1435 comments posted) 23rd July 2008 | cry ( and to continue ) Are we there yet?
I have three children -- and long OZ road trips were punctuated by the necessity to stop , swap and to share out window seats.
I find some of the word usages and images pleasantly surprising -- Wide as history is very typical of how men /boys sit on bus seats for instance 
Quite a lot of compression in a taut a good piece of work
patterjack | Inspirational!
Written by Katanga (1537 comments posted) 24th July 2008 | Fantastic language in this - I can't add to what Nathan has said above, but just want to echo his praise and applaud your great piece!
Cheers!
More please!
John | Thank you so much!
Written by amsford (17 comments posted) 24th July 2008 | I'm thrilled that my work in general (and this piece in particular) have been pleasing!
This was a "real" roadtrip, and though Patterjack was kind enough to let his children swap positions, I was the only girl, and my short little legs were the only ones that could fit on the "hump seat" -- especially for this trip. My older brother was 15 I think, and about 6 foot 1 (he's 6 foot 5 now!) and my younger brother was 11 and about 5 foot 10. I had already stopped growing and was at my top height of 5 foot 5 inches.
Ahhh... the drive back to Massachusetts from Montreal. Those were some cramped quarters! 
Thanks again! | Interesting
Written by NathanRoberts (277 comments posted) 24th July 2008 | It's like one of those visual trick images where one time you look and see a face, then it's gone. Some people can't see the face at all, no matter how much you try and point it out.
Even knowing that the darker tones were imagined, I can't quite escape them! I'm glad, for your sake amsford, that it wasn't dark in reality, but I can't help feeling the poem loses some depth by just being an account of a fairly ordinary roadtrip.
The great imagery is still there, of course, but I'm left wondering - why mention the ripped dress, the inability to look at Joe, and what about that doom laden title?! Was it literally the last family roadtrip? Is that why it stands out in the memory? And, 'legs spread wide as history' still sounds quite sinister to me!
No need to answer any of those questions...I think it's a good example of a poem having a life of its own, which is what we all want for our kiddies ain't it? | Yes...
Written by amsford (17 comments posted) 24th July 2008 | ...it literally was the last family roadtrip. We were at that age where it would no longer be feasible.
I hear you on seeing the darkness or sexual (I am half surprised that no one has noticed the sexual undertones and resulting shame of Worrywart, yet). And yes, I like that the poem can be read on a level other than the intended... but having said that, I would actually like to answer your questions.
Not being able to look at Joe is a direct result of the fact that he sleeps with his eyes half open. If you've never seen someone do that... that is a good thing, as it is beyond creepy. They look half-dead, with just the whites of their eyes showing. Unfortunately, my 5-month old daughter is showing tendencies to "nap with half-mast eyelids" so I've gotten over the creepiness! Her cuteness was the cure.
The ripped sleep-dress belongs to the doll (the busted Sleepy Suzy). I included it, because I liked the tension in the image of a doll joining an army in a night-gown.
One of the reasons I wrote this poem was to try to portray the frustration I felt as the only-girl, middle-child, who lived int he shadow of her overachieving brothers. Both were fabulous (and feted) athletes as well as excellent scholars. Though my own family were my biggest fans (and still are), I found it difficult to claw my way out of the long shadow cast by my brothers -- especially my older brother, hence the tension in not being able to look at him, and the feeling that he was always watching me (ie the half-mast eyelids), even though he wasn't. There was a constant feeling of not being good enough, and the fact that females were seen as second class citizens in my hometown didn't help.
(Aside to patterjack and the readers of one of his recent poems: my brother is the one that I was always comparing myself to... hence, my mother's advice of "comparisons are odious")
So yes, there is darkness... but it is centered in the tremendous anger and desire I had as a young teen girl growing up in a small town in the 80's.
Hope that clarifies without destroying the mystery! |
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