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Old Man in the Tenements

Submitted by Eumolpus on Fri, 2018-12-07 12:11

“When I go out in this shithole city
The streets smell like oyster shells.
The tents of the homeless hug in the underpass.
The buses arrive with refugees from the warzones
Beaten and battered with scars
And memories of horrific silence.
Loudspeakers play deafening drumbeats,
Torn meat fills the shop windows behind barbed wire,
Steam from the cracks in the gutter
Sting the eyes with peppered tears
The smokestacks drip urine from their spouts,
Above the oils reflect a yellowness in the clouds.

“I tell myself there are other ways to live...
Why not the one where everyone dances
Spinning in unison on their toes
With those long necks and tight butts...
Or where lovers burst into arias and duets
In perfect pitch with a full orchestra?
This is not theater- this is life!

“What a drag, man, a drag.
Where are the superheroes to save me?
But they have their weaknesses too,
Each and every one of them-
Even the first commandment
Is just plain politics;
Who’s the boss around here, anyway?

“I pass the hours in a city solitude.
Soon my bones will be too weak
To hold me up at the food market-
For now I remain in my little cubicle
Putting my life on a thumb drive,
Keeping the TV on for the daily chatter
With the mute button on.
What a drag it is to get old"

Last few words: 
(Acknowledgment to using a line from Rolling Stones, Mother's Little Helper).
Editing stage: 
Editing - rough draft

Comments

Geezer

Fri, 2018-12-07 12:38

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that line will last forever and I don't think that it will ever get old. No matter how old humankind gets.
Nice work in the portrayal of life in the BIG city. We don't have much in the way of homeless here, or the smell of oyster shells, but I got it. You move seamlessly up the block toward the "perfect" life and past it to reality. I liked many of your lines and can't pick just a couple. ~ Geezer.
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Eumolpus

Fri, 2018-12-07 17:20

Eumolpus's picture

The gent's not quite homeless, just one of so many you see on the streets of major cities living in tenements in the poor parts of town.
In trying to create this character, now a shadow on the streets, I wanted to say something about this guy feeling like he once had an engaged life, and was hoping the idea of Ballet and Opera not being theater, but life (!), would subconsciously or otherwise suggest that...
think that was successful?
Thanks!

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

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Geezer

Fri, 2018-12-07 20:27

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of ballet and opera not being real life; did in fact, make the cut. I got the feeling that this man has spent his life as a part of the hustle and bustle of the city and now is left behind as something that no longer matters. Nice job. ~ Geezer.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

Geezer

Fri, 2018-12-07 20:39

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.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

Obadiah Grey

Fri, 2018-12-07 12:50

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Perhaps its time to turn over the planet, and the future, to the Dolphins, or my personal favourites the Octopodes.

Powerful piece that resonates all too well with a certain age group, and shit, yes, me too.

Slightly confused by the " quotation " marks?

Obi.

Eumolpus

Fri, 2018-12-07 16:42

Eumolpus's picture

Poems written as spoken by another person, like Yeats did occasionally, are in quotes or italic. I preferred italic but cannot get that function to work on this site.
Here I'm taking the Richard Hugo lead of creating a character (in your own "triggered town") Obviously the creation of this character is coming from me, in the grumpy-old- man season of life.
Maybe I'm trying to hide in that thumb drive...

Thanks.

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

author comment

zebra

Fri, 2018-12-07 15:13

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This is monster stitching passionate, make me love you; esteemed poetry Mark, fulla rhythm and words that breathe the heat of a cruel terrain and scintillating discontent … A God of a Poem:

This may be just me but the last line I think needs bigger teeth
In my opinion, you don't get to write like that (a New York City caldron of switch blade poetry) and in the literary sense fall off the page with a complaint of old age
You need to fucking shrivel and dissolve through the drain holes of shit hole city ( shit hole city a riveting line that sets the standard for the poem. I'm not saying every line or verse has to have immense intensity, I see the other elements of verse as ground though for the strategic set up to take the ride your other lines seem to promise will come
i.e. The pessimism of the last line needs more vitality to keep up with the rest of the write, leaving the reader feeling charged

Best Always Z

Eumolpus

Fri, 2018-12-07 17:24

Eumolpus's picture

and as usual measure your comments very seriously. I'm sure it will change somewhat, it's rare I don't revise a poem after a time. This is a very new and glad for the feedback!

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

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