Poem
D.A. Powell
MEDITATING UPON THE MEANING OF THE LINE “CLAMS ON THE HALFSHELL AND ROLLERSKATES” IN THE SONG “GOOD TIMES” BY CHIC
MEDITATING UPON THE MEANING OF THE LINE “CLAMS ON THE HALFSHELL AND ROLLERSKATES” IN THE SONG “GOOD TIMES” BY CHIC
MEDITATING UPON THE MEANING OF THE LINE “CLAMS ON THE HALFSHELL AND ROLLERSKATES” IN THE SONG “GOOD TIMES” BY CHIC
even the business of dying must be set aside occasionally. glaucous-winged gulls draftingthe last ferry across the bay: lights of the city growing more luminous, more inviting
who could have guessed love’s a palpable thing: a dark splotch of kelp in the shoals
or a mountain lion that prowls the edge of UC’s cypress woods: desires a young student
ivory mandible slack and slavering. at the amber hour snarls its empty bowels
touch: that sensation I’d almost lost, or how to curl into another body hermit-crab style
the grouchy old man in my mirror said “bare terror.” said “who’s sharing your towels?”
go away, you bitter cuss. it’s still 1980 somewhere, some corner of your dark apartment
where the mystery of the lyric hasn’t faded. and love is in the chorus waiting to be born
© 2006, D.A. Powell
From: Poetry, Vol. 188, No. 5, September
Publisher: Poetry, Chicago
From: Poetry, Vol. 188, No. 5, September
Publisher: Poetry, Chicago
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Poems of D.A. Powell
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MEDITATING UPON THE MEANING OF THE LINE “CLAMS ON THE HALFSHELL AND ROLLERSKATES” IN THE SONG “GOOD TIMES” BY CHIC
even the business of dying must be set aside occasionally. glaucous-winged gulls draftingthe last ferry across the bay: lights of the city growing more luminous, more inviting
who could have guessed love’s a palpable thing: a dark splotch of kelp in the shoals
or a mountain lion that prowls the edge of UC’s cypress woods: desires a young student
ivory mandible slack and slavering. at the amber hour snarls its empty bowels
touch: that sensation I’d almost lost, or how to curl into another body hermit-crab style
the grouchy old man in my mirror said “bare terror.” said “who’s sharing your towels?”
go away, you bitter cuss. it’s still 1980 somewhere, some corner of your dark apartment
where the mystery of the lyric hasn’t faded. and love is in the chorus waiting to be born
From: Poetry, Vol. 188, No. 5, September
MEDITATING UPON THE MEANING OF THE LINE “CLAMS ON THE HALFSHELL AND ROLLERSKATES” IN THE SONG “GOOD TIMES” BY CHIC
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