But anyway.. I really really like this: (though it's not in original form, due to Blogger's selfish & controling nature..)
Tuesday
Sep. 29, 2009
LISTEN
Stadium Traffic
by Daniel Donaghy
You're on your way homewhen a thousand carspour onto Broad Street:the ball game's over.No one's going anywhere soon.It's mid-July: eighty and humid.You smell like all the crappies in the Delaware, wear the ache of dock crates in your back.Your buddy lost two fingers tonightto a jigsaw: boss said go home early,stay late tomorrow night.These people don't appreciatewhat they have: time to go to ball games.You get out among blaring hornsand hustlers hawking T-shirts,walk the yellow lines like a tight rope,arms out for balance,all the way to the corner and back.Broad Street still as a parking lot,wound tight as a fist.You pop the trunk, fish a beerfrom your cooler, and pound it.Back in your car, the radio's recapping the game:your team pulled one outthey would have blown last year.You've blown the last year workingnights while your lady works days.Night work means bad lighting,and you've had enough close calls.You've had enough overtime.You've had enough.Something has to give.Somewhere in the distance a dogis barking, a husband is coming home.
"Stadium Traffic" by Daniel Donaghy, from Start with the Trouble. © The University of Arkansas Press, 2009. Reprinted with permission. (buy now)
I almost overlooked this poem... sometimes the almanac stuff is... you know, blah. But then... & I can't stop thinking about it... What's gotta give? Him? His job? His wife? His old life? Or just... everything, but only in that moment? &then, in the next moment, will he just go back to the way it was? can you even do that?
ReplyDeleteI wish I had answers.
yeah i overlook almost all others but for some reason i stopped and took a look and i'm glad i did. it's surprisingly heartbreaking! you think he's one of the one's at the game but then no..& it becomes so suddenly personal. & what the heck is he going to do now??
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