I wrote this earlier in the style of a Mattea Harvey poem. I'm too tired for anything much more. Goodnight.
HERALD SQUARE
It is 90something hot in Herald Square,
I am looking for grape soda
a man is holding a sign that reads
“The End of the World?”
a woman with a corduroy dog
says out loud to anyone, “I’m scared”
I say, “Well, don’t fear comets. They can never kill
by impact, it’s the propelling force
that will crush and then burn you,
or maybe you catch fire first.”
The janitor points out my wet pocket.
I have forgotten another bag of koi.
She whispers, “I am afraid the moon is dead.
And what care can dead things have for us?”
I am offered to buy my own photograph,
it shows only where I could have been.
A man yells, “I feel flatter and hotter.”
The wind boomerangs our words.
I tell the woman, “You’re not crazy.”
A something we should all hear once.
The seer bum switches signs,
holds up a plus sign between him and nothng.
I just reread it this morning. Don't bother with this garbage. I hate all but two lines. This is what happens when I write a poem in the middle of the day, get busy all day and have no connection to it again when I try to smash it down into Word.
ReplyDeleteWhich two lines do you like?
ReplyDeleteI only liked these two line...
ReplyDelete"It is 90something hot in Herald Square,
I am looking for grape soda"
Then you lost me.
Sky,
ReplyDeleteSo I think the only line I like, which is the line i started with originally is the bum holding up a plus sign between him and nothing.
Maybe I like the image of a man forgetting a bag of koi in his front pocket as well.
Two lines here I think I stole from some other poets. But I was so tired, I think I didn't even know.
Drew,
ReplyDeleteIt's easy to be lost in a Mattea Harvey poem. She's picks a theme and then takes a windy twisty way to the destination.
In trying to imitate this, it had to be different than my usual poems. The ideas are looser but in a neighborhood. I had an idea of doomsday in my head, and everything in there is rotating around that. But it doesn't spell it out.
Also, the poem is bad. And that is my tired brain's fault.