Bill Hastings
Listen to me, college boy, you can
keep your museums and poetry and string quartets
’cause there’s nothing more beautiful than
line work. Clamp your jaws together
and listen:
It’s a windy night, you’re freezing the teeth out
of your zipper in ten below, working stiff
jointed and dreaming of Acapulco, the truck cab.
Can’t keep your footing for the ice, and
even the geese who died to fill your vest
are sorry you answered the call-out tonight.
You drop a connector and curses
take to the air like sparrows who freeze
and fall back dead at your feet.
Finally you slam the SMD fuse home.
Bang! The whole valley lights up below you
where before was unbreathing darkness.
In one of those houses a little girl
stops shivering. Now that’s beautiful,
and it’s all because of you.
-Todd Jailer
Thanks Tootie for sharing this poem with me!
The ash of lives that burned well
I can’t say I’ve ever been a big poetry fan. Often, I find poetry somewhat inscrutable. However, there are poems that I do like, and perhaps I will have a greater appreciation for poetry now that I’m in my middle years.
I’ll try to feature poems that I like from time to time.
