![]() |
Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained | |||
Terrance Hayes’ "The Blue Terrance" is a meditation on memory, loss, and the weight of experience, deeply embedded in the aesthetic and emotional resonance of the blues. The poem weaves a tapestry of recollection and regret, shifting seamlessly between past and present, between the personal and the collective, in a tone that is both intimate and expansive. The poem’s rhythm and imagery mimic the cadences of blues music, a form that has long been associated with resilience in the face of sorrow. The poem opens with an invitation to return to childhood, but only "if you subtract the minor losses." This conditional framing immediately establishes the poem’s central tension: the idea that nostalgia is a selective process, requiring an erasure of pain. Yet, as the poem unfolds, it becomes clear that such an erasure is impossible. The memories that surface are tinged with loneliness and exclusion—"the blackboard chalked with crosses, / the math teacher's toe ring." The speaker recalls being "the black boy not even the buck- / toothed girls took a liking to," a stark image of youthful rejection and social invisibility. Hayes' imagery becomes increasingly tactile as the speaker describes himself through objects: "the match box, these bones in their funk / machine, this thumb worn smooth / as the belly of a shovel." The repetition of "Thump. Thump. / Thump." introduces a percussive element, evoking both the steady rhythm of work and the heartbeat of the blues itself. The speaker, like the blues, is shaped by hardship, worn down yet persistent. Memory continues to flow in fragmented vignettes—"I remember what the world was like before / I heard the tide humping the shore smooth." The crude physicality of the verb "humping" disrupts the tranquility of the oceanic image, emphasizing both the eroticism and exhaustion inherent in life’s relentless motion. This is followed by the haunting refrain from an unseen blues song: "How long has your door / been closed?" The question lingers, suggesting both emotional and physical isolation, the barriers we erect against intimacy or vulnerability. The poem then shifts into a moment of sensual recollection: "I remember a garter belt wrung / like a snake around a thigh in the shadows / of a wedding gown before it was flung / out into the bluest part of the night." The wedding imagery here is rich with implication. A garter belt, a traditional symbol of seduction and ritual, becomes a coiled, almost predatory force before it is discarded. The "bluest part of the night" suggests both the color and the emotional depth of the blues—the moment where longing, loneliness, and desire converge. Hayes introduces hypothetical scenarios to further complicate the poem’s emotional landscape: "Suppose you were nothing but a song / in a busted speaker? Suppose you had to wipe / sweat from the brow of a righteous woman, / but all you owned was a dirty rag?" These questions emphasize a sense of powerlessness, of being inadequate in the face of need, whether that need is love, justice, or redemption. The blues, then, becomes not just a musical form but a metaphor for this existential predicament—"That's why / the blues will never go out of fashion: / their half rotten aroma, their bloodshot octaves of / consequence." The "bloodshot octaves of consequence" is a particularly striking phrase, linking sound to suffering, history to music. The poem's climax arrives with the recognition of trouble: "that's why when they call, Boy, you're in / trouble." The invocation of "Boy" carries historical weight, evoking the racist infantilization of Black men, as well as the weary inevitability of pain. The speaker aligns himself with the archetype of the bluesman, recognizing his own restlessness—"Especially if you love as I love / falling to the earth. Especially if you're a little bit / high strung and a little bit gutted balloon." The contradictions within these lines—falling yet floating, tension yet emptiness—mirror the paradox of the blues itself: sorrow is simultaneously debilitating and affirming. The final section of the poem intensifies this exploration of love and loss. The speaker finds beauty in defiance—"I love / watching the sky regret nothing but its / self." The sky, an expansive and unchangeable force, becomes a model for how to endure. The speaker values both "the word No / for its prudence," and "the romantic / who submits finally to sex in a burning row- / house more." This juxtaposition of restraint and abandon captures the tension between self-preservation and self-destruction, a theme deeply rooted in blues mythology. The poem closes on an almost musical note, echoing the lament of classic blues lyrics: "That's why nothing's more romantic / than working your teeth through / the muscle. Nothing's more romantic / than the way good love can take leave of you." The act of "working your teeth through / the muscle" evokes both the physicality of desire and the violence of emotional pain. Love is an act of consumption, of destruction. And yet, the final couplet crystallizes the poem’s melancholic beauty: "That's why I'm so doggone lonesome, Baby, / yes, I'm lonesome and I'm blue." The use of "doggone" and the direct address to "Baby" mimic the diction of traditional blues lyrics, grounding the poem in the very tradition it pays homage to. "The Blue Terrance" is a masterful exploration of blues as both music and metaphor. Hayes employs the idioms and rhythms of blues music to craft a deeply personal reflection on longing, exclusion, and the inevitability of loss. The poem oscillates between memory and abstraction, between tangible objects and ephemeral feelings, capturing the way history, music, and identity intertwine. In its final refrain, the poem leaves us where the blues often does: in the wake of love, with nothing but a song to carry the weight of experience.
| Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VINEGAR AND OIL by JANE HIRSHFIELD AT THE GALLERIA SHOPPING MALL by TONY HOAGLAND VARIATIONS: 18 by CONRAD AIKEN GOODBYE TO A POLTERGEIST by MARK JARMAN SHYNESS OF THE MUSE IN AN ALMOND ORCHARD by MARK JARMAN THE LONELY MAN by RANDALL JARRELL ONE MINUS ONE MINUS ONE by JUNE JORDAN ALONE FOR A WEEK by JANE KENYON |
|