Edgar Degas - Absinthe Drinker
It was like the sky had hooked a wire to her breastbone,
And each pulled stitch of it jerked out a clumsy jig.
The dances were nervous and somber,
And looked like baby birds learning to fly.
The earth was hollow and echoed each tap
And spinning slide of her fingertips when she whirled.
There were only the cold wind
and empty longings in her hair for music.
Black branches snagged at her skirts to still her,
But they only ripped the gauze to tatters.
It was the shoes, heavy with borne children
And clinging like roots of lead
That fastened her to the earth,
saved from an awkward flight home.
C.L. , one of my favorites of yours! The Degas painting showing that woman’s shoes as she slumps over dull-eyed in the pub sitting next to someone but all alone–this really matches so perfectly your lines! Wonderful job here!
Your “shoes, heavy with borne children” is a fine line and the last stanza so tight with hardly a word wasted
Absolutely heartbreaking!! What a vision of life and motherhood.
I am astounded how deeply this poem affected me….I am dizzy with the imagery and it will take a while for it to settle.
This is one of the most evocative (of what I am not just now sure) poems I have read in a long time. It is a poem that goes deep, has layers, but also a pliant simplicity that goes straight to the bone.
Amazing poem, Carly. Rich with honesty and a heart breaking humanity. Such a physical poem that transcends the physical.
Lady Nyo
Skeletal. Bereft. Beautiful.
“There were only the cold wind
and empty longings in her hair for music.” I like to be able to read this as a longing for music or a longing as music. Just one thing I like about this poem.
I’m sure the images in this poem describe many a woman transitioning into motherhood. So evocative.
Beautiful.
heavy stuf…fabulous descriptions…the music in her hair…the desire it builds for something more and yet it is the responsibility that keeps her grounded…all too real…
Fantastic…nuff said!
Hi. I like ‘only the cold wind and empty longings…’ There is a ‘marionette’ feel to the poem. Jane
Fine fine work here, from first to last. You get behind that abstracted and somewhat hopeless face in the painting, almost surgically exposing the inner life/lifelessness there.
Um, I bow an honored bow of gratitude for your writing and sharing. I feel I am witnessing a master-in-the-making with a seat in the orchestra pit.
(It’s sooo cool.)
I’m honored to have you here to read Hines and I have been enjoying your fine work as well
You know, more and more you remind me of Kafka. Taking normal people/situations and taking them into surreal and some terrifying places.
Which is totally awesome.
Wow, thanks!
Wonderful -thanks,
I too like the image of the shoes. There isn’t much hope here – maybe more in the truculent guy next to her.
I love the visuals, heavy weighted meaning, and belly-pull in these lines:
“It was like the sky had hooked a wire to her breastbone”
“It was the shoes, heavy with borne children”
Excellent ending.
mmmmm…beautiful poem.
I’ve always loved the people Degas painted! What a grand image and grand words, too, that you have added.
You hooked me with the title, and held me all the way through. Deeply rooted, yet dancing…like those shoes. Wonderful.
Strong and punchy images. You are writing some incredible things at the moment!
What a poem! The idea inside the poem is powerful, the first image is so startling it makes you look at it twice:
It was like the sky had hooked a wire to her breastbone,
And each pulled stitch of it jerked out a clumsy jig.
Then the denouement:
It was the shoes, heavy with borne children
And clinging like roots of lead
That fastened her to the earth,
“The shoes, heavy with borne children…” what an idea!
What a poem!