deepundergroundpoetry.com
Eureka Springs Arkansas
This one wears
A Victorian smirk
Like layers of an uppity bitches petty coat
(Idk if they wore petty coats in the whole Victorian scene, Idc either. This place seems like that, is what I’m saying.)
I cannot imagine
The resources
Vs. the undertaking being anything other than ..
a whole Marie Antoinette kinda vibe
But fuck it’s pretty
Fuck it gathers them in
All the pedestrian people come to dig the scene
Get lost in the bricks
Pry them up with bored and exhausted fingers
I served food to an elderly couple celebrating a 42 year anniversary today and a newly wed couple on their first night out since their baby was born.
I gave both couples Jell-O shots and Sea salt caramel cake on the house.
The house band was playing Turn the page by Bob Seger.
It was magical
I let them eat cake
It was magical for them for a moment..
tomorrow they go home.
To comfort and concrete
Or dirt roads that seem endless in some God forsaken town, Texarkana or some place where their cousins go noodling (google it, it happens, I’ve done it, it’s terrifying) or their Moms side of the family is Pentecostal (also a little terrifying)
But the streets are familiar..
and home.
And they can recall moments that kinda mattered at every corner.
The corners around me, new to me. And as I described, present an uppity bitch vibe.
I’m finding my home here though
The scene looks hip to me
A Victorian smirk
Like layers of an uppity bitches petty coat
(Idk if they wore petty coats in the whole Victorian scene, Idc either. This place seems like that, is what I’m saying.)
I cannot imagine
The resources
Vs. the undertaking being anything other than ..
a whole Marie Antoinette kinda vibe
But fuck it’s pretty
Fuck it gathers them in
All the pedestrian people come to dig the scene
Get lost in the bricks
Pry them up with bored and exhausted fingers
I served food to an elderly couple celebrating a 42 year anniversary today and a newly wed couple on their first night out since their baby was born.
I gave both couples Jell-O shots and Sea salt caramel cake on the house.
The house band was playing Turn the page by Bob Seger.
It was magical
I let them eat cake
It was magical for them for a moment..
tomorrow they go home.
To comfort and concrete
Or dirt roads that seem endless in some God forsaken town, Texarkana or some place where their cousins go noodling (google it, it happens, I’ve done it, it’s terrifying) or their Moms side of the family is Pentecostal (also a little terrifying)
But the streets are familiar..
and home.
And they can recall moments that kinda mattered at every corner.
The corners around me, new to me. And as I described, present an uppity bitch vibe.
I’m finding my home here though
The scene looks hip to me
Published 22nd Oct 2021
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 4
reading list entries 3
comments 3
reads 462
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
23rd Oct 2021 5:27am
Dear J,
Love everything about this poem. The people. The events of their being in the establishment. The vibe of the moment. The reckoning of your reason for being there to experience them. The way you’ve written this- Brilliant write. H🌷
Love everything about this poem. The people. The events of their being in the establishment. The vibe of the moment. The reckoning of your reason for being there to experience them. The way you’ve written this- Brilliant write. H🌷
23rd Oct 2021 8:51am
The clintons used to party there, when he was governor.
It's a resort town, and so there's that vibe.
I tend to enjoy this poem, the tone in particular...
There seems to be a narrative, not foregrounded, of having moved to and started working in ES.
I like it as the context to the poem, a frame or background--
I like the poem when it starts to get into the conflict between the speaker's dismissive, outsider attitude and the realization of the poignancy of being able to live in a place filled with meaning and memory, which is apparently different in some way from her experience of ES.
It's at that crossroads that's the heart of the poem--between the outsider's derision and condescension, and an appreciation for the roots and attachment such people have to their lives--the soil, the place, the memory and connection of place, whether its wheat-farmers in the pan handled, or the jewish Bloom in Dublin...
Enjoyed!
It's a resort town, and so there's that vibe.
I tend to enjoy this poem, the tone in particular...
There seems to be a narrative, not foregrounded, of having moved to and started working in ES.
I like it as the context to the poem, a frame or background--
I like the poem when it starts to get into the conflict between the speaker's dismissive, outsider attitude and the realization of the poignancy of being able to live in a place filled with meaning and memory, which is apparently different in some way from her experience of ES.
It's at that crossroads that's the heart of the poem--between the outsider's derision and condescension, and an appreciation for the roots and attachment such people have to their lives--the soil, the place, the memory and connection of place, whether its wheat-farmers in the pan handled, or the jewish Bloom in Dublin...
Enjoyed!
24th Oct 2021 4:37pm
I agree with Mark Parsons, in the bustle and din, the contrasts of surfaces and depths, lies the beating heart. The details bring the milieu to life, the metaphors hold a visceral energy that reveals the emotional context. Gorgeous work.
