Truck driver, second-floor roomer. Good for next month's rent? A screaming silence fell down three flights and hit the basement. Couldn't last any longer -- her getting by like. The jealousy. These others with husbands who still had teeth. Every broad in the building screamed down into her room -- screaming on her to make it, to get her hat -- scrape the wind outside. The blowing December slabs nailed her against herself, against her own desperation. And they had no idea why she split without a fight. All those strikes against her. Like this dude said who'd just come out of prison, Man I can't even afford to look with my eyes funny. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HIS MOTHER'S SERVICE TO OUR LADY by FRANCOIS VILLON AN OLD MAN'S WINTER NIGHT by ROBERT FROST THE JEW TO JESUS by FLORENCE KIPER FRANK THE REAPER AND THE FLOWERS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW LUKE HAVERGAL by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |