Monday, May 26, 2008


Finally, I am going to begin posting here again.
The term is finally ending, and I will have a little more free time.
I took a poetry writing class this term and just turned in my final portfolio, so I feeling both relieved and saddened. So, I thought I would post one of the poems I wrote this term here:


We couldn’t take anymore kids
with their Birkenstocks and orange tans
spouting CliffNote rhetoric about
Emily Dickinson and flies buzzing.
We couldn’t take anymore kids
popping the collar of uniform polos
and throwing down fake gang signs
from the windows of their Range Rovers.

So instead of hopping the yellow bus
we jumped a train to the city
and found ourselves in morning’s rush
briefcases and beige pantsuits
#1 MOM coffee cups and
polished shoes reflecting the headline
of their owners’ Chicago Tribune: Anti-
American Protests Continue in Afghanistan.

Outside the train station’s doors
the smell of sewer and cigarettes
spiked the oxygen in our blood.
Led to the EL by the sound of clicking heels,
we watched from the brown line window
a single file stream of briefcases on every block.
We stepped off of the EL and
stepped into a vintage Neverland.

Under the green street sign at the
intersection of Belmont and Clark

the sidewalk was filled with shoes
stitched by tiny, brown hands in Asia.
The shoes were filled with people
shouting to end war in the Middle East
and the sidewalk brimmed with
fliers that spelled Hamas Hummus.

We bought falafels and French
fries and drank Diet Coke and
watched a man harass a woman
watched a woman flinch
In the bathroom a plant hung over the sink
and on the door of the first white stall
someone had scrawled in red sharpie ink
“this is this and that is shit.”

As darkness fell neon rose,
and we wandered to the train station
passing bums layered in plaid shirts
collecting change in front of Neiman Marcus
passing skinny kids dressed like bums
carrying Neiman Marcus bags.
On the train we watched a man
drink whiskey out of a paper bag.

On the train we talked about
last week’s calculus test.

1 comment:

Amelia said...

Awesome, Kate! I wanna take a poetry class. I suck at poetry tho.

This poem squats my heart. hee. :)