President Obama's speech is tonight.
I shall be occupied through the weekend with other matters, so I am posting early. This is possible since I happen to have a poem. This poem was written between 4:30 and 7:30 PM, last night, Monday evening. I did a 3rd go-over this AM. For better or worse, here it is:
FORECLOSURE
nothing was forbidden now -
even drawing on the walls.
her rental space of happy time at end,
and the gaily painted crayon hours passed
in silken caravanserai of her dreams
and a children's beauty pageant!
she twirled her baton!
Julia Adams lives here;
take note: this is her room!
all you monsters and ghosts beware!
and whatever ills may come!
the house on cottageview haven
was bought with sub-prime money
and furnished without payment for three years;
she could walk to the school two blocks away,
beyond the inconstant traffic light seen
from her upstairs bedroom window.
how they loved that house!
Julia would run with dogs,
and snuggle with the cats;
go sledding on city park's hill of snow,
whip a fierce snowball, swim the swimming pool;
t-ball; soccer, and then little league;
and play xbox "resident evil" :
does something this way come?
Julia Adams lives here;
take note: this is her room!
all you monsters and ghosts beware!
and whatever ills may come!
that life died and was not buried
in the year of zero-eight;
the re-po man took back their joy, and then
the chifferobe of swollen, weeping eyes,
and all the wicker, wicker rocking chairs
to a dark uncharted forest
where the zombies dwell!
when foreclosure came to them,
the sheriff came to tea;
and alice-like, she cried: no room, no room,
until the xbox lay out at the curb;
she took poster paints and magic markers,
and on the wall above her bed embroidered
scream thread in crimson tears:
Julia Adams lives here still;
take note: this is her room!
all you monsters and ghosts beware!
and whatever ills may come!
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3 comments:
Chills.
The refrain works beautifully.
The one piece of the puzzle Obama always speaks of in detail is how the economic mess affects real people. He did it again last night. Could have been talking about Julia Adams.
He wants to 'restart the engine of prosperity.' I don't think he means the kind we've been riding the past couple of decades.
the engines of prosperity are out in the desert somewhere, beyond the rusted fleets of abandoned airplanes.
they are next to the engines of compassion and the engines of charity (personal charity, that is, not tax deductible charity).
maybe it is area 51.
all those engines of the good old days, thrown together in an abandoned airplane hangar...
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