Elegy
Ask where you were when they built the wooden bridge across the Chattanooga from leavings of railroad pegs and the shed long abandoned on the border of Alabama, that space of illiterate signatures. What pine or oak originated
from those pillars and whose saw slid the chest of every ring? The homeless have no names and sleep under what we might call the crows feet of the wood. Like a bridge made of mortar and stone. The Appalachian sunset is not at war with skyscrapers.
Ask yourself: Whose side are you really on when the city lights mimic the stars so well, and paint a second sky on the Chattanooga?
Beautiful writing, Randie. This draft really displays your handle on detailed imagery and tonal register--the "space of illiterate signatures" and "the Appalachian sunset not at war with skyscrapers" I thought were particularly evocative lines. Why? Because they are these sort of strange, unlikely images--but, I feel they beg for more context. Why these juxtaposing images? Why is the sunset "not" at war? When I envision an Appalachian sun setting around skyscrapers I can see it as, in fact, particularly "war like"-- fire surrounding the buildings, the a polluted cityscape encroaching the foothills of the App. mountains, and so on...
ReplyDeleteNow, that's obviously from deep within my own twisted sensibilities--but I still want to find out why the sunset is "not at war." I think most readers would. Why the abandoned shed is in that "space of illiterate signatures." Including context I think will help continue the orchestration of this melancholic inquisition you've begun, here. Easier said than done, sure. It's the battle I'm fighting now with my writing, this interplay between specificity and abstraction...
You've set yourself up good here, though. Allow the reader some context and you'll be on your way to some even better verse.
I wonder what is floating down that river?
ReplyDeleteI used to live by the Tennessee in Scottsboro, there was always something interesting happening on the river and there were plenty of stories about it, could this poem take you there. What imagery does that bring to mind.
I like how you juxtapose modern architecture with natural phenomenon. The final question seems like a great question for even further inquiry. How can the two work together?
ReplyDeleteIt is also interesting how you "Ask where you were?" This question makes the construction feel like a monumental event. Which in a way, it is. You could further develop this idea as well. Why is this such a big deal. Is it a corruption of nature or another opportunity to expand on the dialogue of this very question.