BEFORE THE CITY
by Kirby Wright
copyright © 2001



Ludlow Press Poetry

Before the City

Haven't seen you in a week. 

Today is Tuesday. 

The Dutch Elm shivers on the front lawn. 

A U-Haul waits at the curb. 

These houses that watch me are coffins. 

The suburbs are a Cold War painting. 

Neighbors stand at windows and in doorways to their own graves.

I press Rewind and Play, see us over. 

Beyond glass, past the shutters, you are safe at a distance. 

I never intended the old man to break through my eyes.

A UPS truck circles the block.

In the city I'll rent what belongs to my father. 

The face of his fridge rusts.

He says I failed in life. 

I pack firecrackers to warn me of fires.

I know I will die alone.      










E-mail: kirby33@earthlink.net

Back to Poetry Page
[Back to top]