Saturday, September 5, 2009

Nowhere, Canada

With a bit of creativity
alongside the ravens
as they scrabble over chicken bones
every child finds what he needs
sweet nothing
And the moon draws low
full as a soup bowl,
sweet as a song
floating with all you wish for
dive in
She walks down the street
one hand on her hips,
pants stretched tight
as an invitation
hey, sweetie
The girls stand in rows
huddled for warmth around
the pulsing glow of
their cigarette wands
drag down
with the force of habit
all eyes sweep the ground
for traces of the lost ones
seduced by this northern town

Rachel Westfall
September 4, 2009


LIRIO said...

oh dear heartbreaking rachel

Woman in a Window said...

OH LAWD, LAWD! You live in my town! While there is sadness here, Rachel, you nailed it so perfectly I'm simply slapping my thigh! THIS is a perfect rendering.

SarahA said...

Such sadness, but beautifully done; you.The language and flow through, makes for a smooth read.

Mike-Mike said...

"Nowhere" does not exist; there is no such place as nowhere. You are always somewhere even if you don't no where. Hah!

Great poem! :)

namingconstellations said...

Powerful imagery! I especially like the last few lines...

Are there roads that lead out of Nowhere?

Karen said...

Looking for traces of the lost ones. That will stay with me.

Rob-bear said...

I'm with Mike-Mike; "nowhere" doesn't exist. But "might as well be nowhere" does, as you've said so beautifully in your poem. It's somewhere at the end of the road, even if it's really at an intersection.

Julie said...

Absolutely beautiful and poignant. This is my "new favorite" poem of yours, Rachel. I have to be contrary, because I think Nowhere does exist (at least in the poetic sense), and you paint it with wonderful strokes here. The chicken bones and moon full as a soup bowl are so powerful. Excellent poem!

RachelW said...

Lirio, perhaps, in a slow sort of way. Not an abrupt heartbreak, but a gentle one.

Erin, here is a slice of it; you have written of many others, some much more beautiful.

Sarah, thank you :)

Mike-Mike, you and I will dance this discussion in circles until we both grow old... I say there is such a place. You say there is not. I say, if there is no place called nowhere, then how did there come to be a Road to Nowhere, a Middle of Nowhere, and a place where the streets have no name?

Joseph, I suspect all roads lead there, and none lead away.

Karen, I'm not sure why that had to sneak in there, but it did, and so it is.

Rob, I swear it's real! ;)

Julie, yes, it certainly exists in the poetic sense, and at some level of our collective consciousness. Therefore it is real. Thank you for your kind words!