Three men carry
the woman who keeps passing
out
across the street
occasionally coming close
to dropping her.
Her girlfriend shouts to another
further down
the street
April, April – she’s hurt—
April!
Her voice slips
shrill
chills me where I sit
at the curb listening
to the car radio, waiting
for my date who has gone
for cokes and cigarettes.
The storefront’s neon beckons
its big block letter advertisement
“we never close”
twenty-four hour expectancy
no beginning no end.
I see the passed out woman
suddenly awake and smiling
everyone laughs
and I wait
impatiently for him
to return with smokes
cold cokes and the night
to go on.
Rebekah Keaton is an English Professor at Niagara County Community College. She teaches composition, American literature, and creative writing. Her poetry has appeared in various literary journals, including Blueline, Common Ground Review, Moth+Rust, Slipstream Magazine, Muddy River Poetry Review, and Earth’s Daughters, and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize.
This is such a well-done poem. I read it several times because I love the voice and tone of the speaker so much. I imagine the voice of the poem, for some odd reason, as the actress, Natasha Lyonne (Russian Doll, Orange New Black, American Pie) - kind of a guy's guy girl. You know, not into the drama, likes to chill and observe (every poet/writer observes).
ReplyDeleteIt's a multi-directional poem, a lot going on, like a scene from an independent film, the kind of film that requires you to think, heavy on the dialog and symbolism, which are the type of films I love.
I like to call them "scene" poems. Good scene poems, like the one here, are not easy to write. The reader can get lost or bored, or both, if the poem is too linear, no plot twists, etc.
Thank you for this poem.