Thursday, January 10, 2008


Here is a belated shot from my caucus station at Hoover Elementary. It was quite the clusterf*ck. Still I am glad I went. Below is a poem soon to be retired from the Poetry Daily archives. There is also another Marvin Bell poem from Ted Kooser's most recent ALP column here.


Five to Seven


It's a dog straining at its leash
that sets the day
against the dawn, the new sun spotting
the sidewalk, and a slow ratcheting up
of machinery and a beehive of voices
picking up the pace of gossip, a humming of
harmonies, a layered chorus of order
and disorder, a knife blade shining briefly
in an alley, a car tire over the curb,
the siren, the clanging, the electric buzz,
now crisscrossing Times Square,
and the Staten Island Ferry spewing commuters
shaven or lipsticked from the bathrooms,
the mirror coated with steamy grimaces,
the workday rush to reach the rainbow
of a pension and a porch. Add in a bagel
with a schmear, some joe, a donut for ten,
and you've got America without a pennant,
a horde of faces without a flag,
up from the hole of night talk and beer,
ready to rumble in the subway, earplugs,
headphones, whatever it takes
to get back with a full shopping bag
emptied on the kitchen counter
while trying to cook and listen
to one person at a time.



Marvin Bell


The Georgia Review
Fall/Winter 2006

2 comments:

Churlita said...

Where the hell are you hiding? I never see you.

Sometimes it's hard for me to think of him as a poet, as opposed to one of the old guys who hung out at the Mill when I was 19 and worked there.

Dexter said...

The writer in all his drunken glory....