From the book Red
Pontiac Convertible by John Gorman:
“The
dream was leaving…”
~John Ronan
The edge
of
that town I’d lived in
a
fenced field of smashed cars,
a
shack to sell their parts.
The
screen of a drive-in movie
one
huge tombstone by daylight,
mingy,
post-War houses scattered
built
from kits and already crumbling
ditches
and weeds
too
much space around everything
a
thin life
junk
a
jumble.
You’d
die driving into it thinking
Now
I’ll have to live here.
Leaving,
years later, you’d barely look back
but
you’d shudder
knowing
that just because you’d been here
something
that blossomed
in
everyone else
would
wither in you.
The
dream was leaving
the
dream was amnesia
then
absolute re-creation a shimmering self
willed
solid and potent and deft
from
the brilliant void of this horror
this
displacement.
All
right.
So
why do the clover flowers
and
goldenrod make
purple-green-golden
bouquets
around
the crumpled grille
of
a ’38 Buick?
Why
do the bottles
of
off-brand strawberry and lemon-lime pop
gleam,
in the stale depths of off-water,
among
angel shapes of melting, bacterial ice
in the zinc cooler
at the wooden bread store
as
if they were Jungian Truths?
Why
do I believe it all over again
when
the drive-in lights up
in
the late summer dusk
full
of popcorn and sleazy magic?
Marco
Polo, apparently,
wanted
to get out of Venice.
Why
am I back in Aurora, Illinois
in
the heat of this poem?
Dr. John Gorman lives in Galveston, TX and teaches literature and creative
writing at UH-Clear Lake. His poems, gathered in three chapbooks, have appeared
individually in dozens of Texas publications with more nationally and in
Canada.
Dr. Gorman remains in demand as a poet and speaker at venues across the
region including performances at the Grand Opera House in Galveston, TX and at Discovery
Green in downtown Houston as part of the Public Poetry Series.
Dr. Gorman
has also been a featured poet at several FPL Poetry Series programs.
More poems by John Gorman:
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