band camp, day seven (another poem)

July 14, 2007

In lieu of all the band campage going on, I’m going to post an poem that I wrote a while back, but revised just today. I hope everyone likes it. We’ll consider this a “what I did at band camp today” post, and keep it under the band camp title. Also, if anyone know how to indent in WordPress, please let me know, cause I’d really like to format my poems properly.


There was a man behind
The concrete barriers and pillars
Under the trains that coasted over the town.
I saw him bundled and huddled up
Next to a black barrel
That protects the cars that crash there.
He hid, waiting to lunge before my car,
Where my car might undo him.
He was waiting.
I saw him,
Or my mind whispers that in my ear.
He was waiting, but the face I’m certain I saw
Hung spray-painted on the very pillar he hid behind.

I think he was there,
But further inspection,
As I whipped by going forty,
Revealed no man.
Why do I look for faces in places
Where they cannot be?
Faces in rocks, ceiling tiles,
Flowers, hairlines and trashcans.
I wonder what I must have wanted,
With a man waiting to die.

I think of my old lady friends
And the quest for truth.
We disseminate and dissect books,
My old ladies and I
And break down every tower that needs breaking
Until all we have left are blocks
Mere cells, singular units.

I seek things in the blocks
(though not always faces)
and ask the blocks to tell me something true.
Perhaps it is my age
(or lack thereof)
that prevents me from spotting
the fertile kernels they pluck from the blocks
and succor.
Hard though I may try,
Rarely do I see edibles
In these dry stones,
Abundant with vapor and foam.
They are not heavy on my brain or in my hands
And are certainly not nutritious.
Every book is simply full of black barrels,
Words like barriers,
Waiting to catch cars.
Perhaps my friends are also seeing the man.

One comment

  1. I like this one too. Can vaguely relate.

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