In honor of the magnificent Adrienne Rich (1929-2012). Her essays are Essential Reading !
Dislocations: Seven Scenarios
1.
Still learning the word
“home” or what it could mean
say,
to relinquish
a backdrop of japanese maples turning
color of rusted wheelbarrow bottom
where the dahlia tubers were thrown
You must go live in the city now
over the subway though not on
its
grating
must endure the foreign music
of the block party
finger in useless anger
the dangling cords of the windowblind
2.
In a vast dystopic space the small things
multiply
when all the pills run out the pain
grows more general
flies find the many eyes
quarrels thicken then
weaken
tiny mandibles of rumor open and close
blame has a name that will not be spoken
you grasp or share a clot of food
according to your nature
or
your strength
love’s ferocity snarls
from under the drenched blanket’s hood
3.
City and world: this infection drinks like a drinker
whatever it can
casual salutations first
little rivulets of thought
then wanting stronger stuff
sucks at the marrow of selves
the nurse’s long knowledge of wounds
the rabbi’s scroll of ethics
the young worker’s defiance
only the solipsist seems intact
in her prewar building
4.
For recalcitrancy of attitude
the surgeon is transferred
to the V.A. hospital where poverty
is the administrator
of necessity and her
orders don’t necessarily
get obeyed
because
the government
is paying
and the
used to be
warriors
are patients
5.
Faces in the mesh: defiance or disdain
remember Paul Nizan?
You
thought you were innocent if you said
“I love this woman and I want to live
in accordance with my love.”
but
you were beginning the revolution
maybe so, maybe not
look at her now
pale
lips papery flesh
at your creased belly wrinkled sac:
look at the scars
reality’s
autographs
along your ribs across her haunches
look at the collarbone’s reverberant line
how in a body can defiance
still
embrace its likeness
6.
Not to get up and go back to the drafting table
where failure crouches accusing
like the math test you bluffed and flunked
so early on
not to drag into the window’s
cruel and truthful light your blunder
not to start over
but to turn your back, saying
all anyway is compromise
impotence and collusion
from here on I will be no part of it
is one way you could afford it
7.
Tonight someone will sleep in a stripped apartment
the last domestic traces, cup and towel
awaiting final disposal
—has ironed his shirt for travel
left an envelope for the cleaning woman
on the counter under the iron
internationalist turning toward home
three continents to cross documents declarations
searches queues
and home no simple matter
of hearth or harbor
bleeding from internal wounds
he diagnosed physician
without frontiers
—Adrienne Rich
from Boston Review and The School Among the Ruins, 2000-2004 (W.W. Norton)
1 comment:
One of so many exceptional poems by this exceptional poet. Thank you for posting it!
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