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Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained | |||
"The Colored Birds" by Charles Bukowski is a stark, unsettling portrayal of domestic violence and the voyeuristic apathy that often surrounds it. Set against the backdrop of an ordinary high-rise apartment complex, the poem delves into the lives of a troubled couple as observed by the narrator, presumably Bukowski himself, from an adjacent building. Through this grim tableau, Bukowski exposes the underbelly of suburban existence, where the veneer of civility masks a deeper, more disturbing reality of cruelty and despair. The poem begins with a matter-of-fact recounting of the violence that occurs "at night," a routine so established that the screams no longer provoke a response from the neighbors. This normalization of violence is juxtaposed with the mundane details of the woman's appearance the next day, highlighting the cyclical nature of abuse and the victim's resignation to her situation. The description of the woman, with "curlers in her hair" and "huge buttocks jammed into black slacks," is rendered with a mixture of sympathy and detachment, underscoring the complexity of observing such intimate suffering from a distance. The man, described as a "little matador" and a "pail of shit," emerges as a figure of both ridicule and menace. His diminishment from a potentially "handsome man" to a perpetrator of domestic violence reflects a fall from grace, a devolution into pettiness and cruelty. The pool scene serves as a metaphor for his isolation and impotence, swimming in "fishless, sandless water," a stark contrast to the natural, vibrant life he seeks to control and destroy. The introduction of the colored birds adds a layer of symbolism to the poem. These birds, confined and voiceless, serve as a poignant metaphor for the woman's own trapped existence. Her feeble protest that "the birds need sun" is met with the man's authoritarian demand to bring them inside, further illustrating the dynamics of power and control that define their relationship. The birds' silent presence underscores the theme of entrapment and the suffocation of vitality and freedom. The poem's climax, marked by the sound of violence ("BAM! BAM!") and the woman's screams, is chilling in its banality. The narrator's decision to pour another coffee, reflecting on the frequency and normalcy of the abuse, speaks to a broader societal indifference to domestic violence. The final lines, sarcastically anointing the man as "one of the few real men around here," serve as a biting critique of toxic masculinity and the perverse valorization of dominance and aggression. "The Colored Birds" is a powerful indictment of domestic violence, voyeurism, and the complicity of silence. Bukowski's unflinching portrayal of the dark, often hidden realities of suburban life challenges the reader to confront the ugliness that lies beneath the surface of everyday existence. Through vivid imagery and a narrative that oscillates between empathy and cynicism, the poem forces a reckoning with the consequences of inaction and the human capacity for cruelty. POEM TEXT: it is a highrise apt. next door and he beats her at night and she screams and nobody stops it and I see her the next day standing in the driveway with curlers in her hair and she has her huge buttocks jammed into black slacks and she says, standing in the sun, "god damn it, 24 hours a day in this place, I never go anywhere!" then he comes out, proud, the little matador, a pail of shit, his belly hanging over his bathing trunks — he might have been a handsome man once, might have, now they both stand there and he says, "I think I'm goin' for a swim." she doesn't answer and he goes to the pool and jumps into the fishless, sandless water, the peroxide-codein water, and I stand by the kitchen window drinking coffee trying to unboil the fuzzy, stinking picture — after all, you can't live elbow to elbow to people without wanting to draw a number on them. every time my toilet flushes they can hear it. every time they go to bed I can hear them. soon she goes inside and then comes out with 2 colored birds in a cage. I don't know what they are. they don't talk, they just move a little, seeming to twitch their tail-feathers and shit, that's all they do. she stands there looking at them. he comes out: the little tuna, the little matador, out of the pool, a dripping unbeautiful white, the cloth of his wet suit gripping, "get those birds in the house!" "but the birds need sun!" "I said, get those birds in the house!" "the birds are gonna die!" "you listen to me, I said, GET THOSE BIRDS IN THE HOUSE!" she bends and lifts them, her huge buttocks in the black slacks looking so sad. he slams the door behind them, then I hear it. BAM! she screams BAM! BAM! she screams then: BAM! and she screams. I pour another coffee and decide that that's a new one: he usually only beats her at night, it takes a man to beat his wife night and day. although he doesn't look like much he's one of the few real men around here.
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