I am not ashamed to say
that I was able to look at Ground Zero
for no more than fifteen minutes
watching tourists
take pictures of each other
with my burning friends as a backdrop
and the cops watched them too
and I do not know what they thought
but I do know everyone stopped everything
when a crane pulled a girder from the pile
and fire poured out of the hole
and a water truck sprayed it all to hell
and then they started up again
and I had to walk away
because I could smell the ruins
and it was a whole two months later
and I was not ready for how sweet
such a smell could be
like flowers in a parlor
like fruit forgotten on a porch
or candy you’ve been forced to eat
and I do not have a picture
but I always have my nose
and when I close my eyes
I am still in New York City
as my friends rise up to greet me
and they will not let me say goodbye
+++++++++++++++++++++++
Dark Matter 
June 21st, 2005 at 3:08 am
No. But, good that you did.
June 21st, 2005 at 3:08 am
No. But, good that you did.
June 21st, 2005 at 2:15 am
Thanks. Not the easiest piece to write.
June 21st, 2005 at 2:15 am
Thanks. Not the easiest piece to write.
June 20th, 2005 at 9:01 pm
Beautifully worded.
The sensory tension you make blatantly obvious here:
and I do not have a picture
but I always have my nose
and when I close my eyes
…and of course, throughout the entire piece.
Beautiful.
June 20th, 2005 at 9:01 pm
Beautifully worded.
The sensory tension you make blatantly obvious here:
and I do not have a picture
but I always have my nose
and when I close my eyes
…and of course, throughout the entire piece.
Beautiful.
June 20th, 2005 at 8:25 pm
it comes out when it’s ready…i find the experiences that are the most raw,
the most visceral, or the most sick, are the ones taking years to get out & even then,
in stutter steps.
once i was asked to read at an event & i started on a piece and realized “whoah, i haven’t written about this yet” and i was shakey for a few days until something formed because it was like that—something under the surface which took years to articulate itself.
*breathe deeply*
June 20th, 2005 at 8:25 pm
it comes out when it’s ready…i find the experiences that are the most raw,
the most visceral, or the most sick, are the ones taking years to get out & even then,
in stutter steps.
once i was asked to read at an event & i started on a piece and realized “whoah, i haven’t written about this yet” and i was shakey for a few days until something formed because it was like that—something under the surface which took years to articulate itself.
*breathe deeply*
June 20th, 2005 at 6:29 pm
Re: oh.
I’m not ready for that yet. But I will be someday.
Until then, I skirt around the edges, and crash into trees.
June 20th, 2005 at 6:29 pm
Re: oh.
I’m not ready for that yet. But I will be someday.
Until then, I skirt around the edges, and crash into trees.
June 20th, 2005 at 6:11 pm
Thank you.
I never know whether to feel complimented on a poem like this. That’s not about you, of course…more about how I feel about writing them.
June 20th, 2005 at 6:11 pm
Thank you.
I never know whether to feel complimented on a poem like this. That’s not about you, of course…more about how I feel about writing them.
June 20th, 2005 at 5:59 pm
wow.
June 20th, 2005 at 5:59 pm
wow.
June 20th, 2005 at 5:46 pm
yes.
The memory of those people just standing there, taking pictures, then handing off the camera to another person to get themselves with the ruins…
I suppose memory is a fragile thing for some folks. They needed proof they were there. I don’t begrudge them, I guess. I just couldn’t watch it.
I have never been able to write about this in any sort of coherent way. Still a lot to do to get there, if I ever do.
June 20th, 2005 at 5:46 pm
yes.
The memory of those people just standing there, taking pictures, then handing off the camera to another person to get themselves with the ruins…
I suppose memory is a fragile thing for some folks. They needed proof they were there. I don’t begrudge them, I guess. I just couldn’t watch it.
I have never been able to write about this in any sort of coherent way. Still a lot to do to get there, if I ever do.
June 20th, 2005 at 5:42 pm
Re: oh.
I actually force myself to watch a lot of it, with one exception: I cannot watch the film clip of Flight 11 hitting the tower. That’s not a news event to me — that’s seven of my co-workers dying. I turn my head everytime it is shown. It makes me sick to my stomach.
June 20th, 2005 at 5:42 pm
Re: oh.
I actually force myself to watch a lot of it, with one exception: I cannot watch the film clip of Flight 11 hitting the tower. That’s not a news event to me — that’s seven of my co-workers dying. I turn my head everytime it is shown. It makes me sick to my stomach.
June 20th, 2005 at 3:50 pm
wow.
there are so many stories & always a new angle or a new poem someone’s written about that september~this really stands out.
it reminds me of
the frustration of my friends in brooklyn with the tourists, how for months, ashes and bits would blow into the bouroughs,indescribibly to them, even as writers.at first it was heavy, thick, but unmistakable, different from the usual grime, and how to express that?
this piece captures that sensoryness, the smell of ruins & how it is never what we could ever expect & how the reactions of others jar.
June 20th, 2005 at 3:50 pm
wow.
there are so many stories & always a new angle or a new poem someone’s written about that september~this really stands out.
it reminds me of
the frustration of my friends in brooklyn with the tourists, how for months, ashes and bits would blow into the bouroughs,indescribibly to them, even as writers.at first it was heavy, thick, but unmistakable, different from the usual grime, and how to express that?
this piece captures that sensoryness, the smell of ruins & how it is never what we could ever expect & how the reactions of others jar.
June 20th, 2005 at 3:01 pm
oh.
This is why I never went to the site in Oklahoma City until it was razed. To this day it makes me ill that it’s been turned into a tourist attraction.
I have my own memorial in my mind. You have yours, too – every person who lost someone in those two horrible times has that memorial, that sense-memory, that emotion.
If I had been home in Oklahoma City when it went down instead of Japan, I would have been there at the site the first day. I wouldn’t have survived two years if I had seen it cratered, smoking, bleeding people crying and running everywhere…the dead being carried out. I can’t even watch it on the news, that’s why the 10th anniversary snuck up on me – I caught too much footage when not being vigilant and having blocked the timing of the years passing.
I think there’s a poem in here somewhere. As always, you have a good effect on me, Tony. Thank you for being honest enough to share. *hug*
June 20th, 2005 at 3:01 pm
oh.
This is why I never went to the site in Oklahoma City until it was razed. To this day it makes me ill that it’s been turned into a tourist attraction.
I have my own memorial in my mind. You have yours, too – every person who lost someone in those two horrible times has that memorial, that sense-memory, that emotion.
If I had been home in Oklahoma City when it went down instead of Japan, I would have been there at the site the first day. I wouldn’t have survived two years if I had seen it cratered, smoking, bleeding people crying and running everywhere…the dead being carried out. I can’t even watch it on the news, that’s why the 10th anniversary snuck up on me – I caught too much footage when not being vigilant and having blocked the timing of the years passing.
I think there’s a poem in here somewhere. As always, you have a good effect on me, Tony. Thank you for being honest enough to share. *hug*
June 20th, 2005 at 1:55 pm
Wow. that was pretty emotional. Well done.
June 20th, 2005 at 1:55 pm
Wow. that was pretty emotional. Well done.