Wordsworth in Poughkeepsie

By MACEO J. WHITAKER 

Expostulate up! up! Route 9, Will.
Ignore the totality of immortality.
Drink up this anti-pastoral.
Hail the Just-a-Buck and Minnow Motors.
Praise the bifurcation of river + city.
Honor the grit, the skylight plywood,
The attic rats and wall roaches.
Greet the vagrant dwellers walking
Route(s) 44/55, forked, joint, forked.
View the ruined cottage; beware
The toughs in Mansion Square Park
Who’d rough you up and snatch your dough—
These kids a clique of Ixions: no xenia.
Steal knickknacks from pawn shops.
Write rent-party verse in sleet dirt.
Cheer the ex-boxer jabbing alley air
While blocking his pebbled face. Look:
Scars + pocks + snarls + rocks.
Run the steps and stage at the Bardavon.
Sidestep the gypsy pigeons on the Amtrak
Tracks. Eat from the tomato patch
In the 10×20 yard. Dance to the music:
Buckethead’s cuckoo clocks of hell,
Robert Johnson’s hellhound blues,
Phife buggin’ from a tricked-out Audi.
And in the distance, techno.
Smoke the pop og; pass the god bud.
Smell the glorious chicken. Flip
Slick condom wrappers. Watch
Tall men heave half-court shots. Then,
When spent, climb the walkway high
Above the Hudson—Pete’s river— +
Inhale the beauteous forms and bridges.
Fill lined paper with the breathings, Words-
Worth, of your bruised old heart. Let it leap.

 

Maceo J. Whitaker lived in the New York City neighborhoods of Hell’s Kitchen and Long Island City before moving upriver to the thriving arts community of Beacon, NY. He has new poems forthcoming in North American Review, Juked, PANK, The Pinch, Poetry Magazine, and The Florida Review.

[Click here to purchase your copy of Issue 08]

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

Wordsworth in Poughkeepsie

Related Posts

Caribbean picture

Self-Portrait in The Caribbean

PAOLA ASSAD BARBARINO
Sometimes I am emboldened, / I decide to stand in the people’s balcony / I decide it is Maundy Thursday I decide to place a priest behind me that can speak to the people behind / my back / I decide to put out the fire and light my throat / scream

Feltspade

ELIAS SADAQ
I serve out my conscription / sleep in a bunk bed / for four cold months / in the engineer regiment at Skive Garrison / in a room with three other men / I fuck the colonel / the only sign that time is passing / is a pile of snow outside the window / that grows smaller

Book cover of Fifty Mothers

Mother is a Kind of Holding: Jenny Qi interviews Preeti Vangani

PREETI VANGANI
With vignettes, I could plumb its narrative arc to become a force propelling the book forward. It also felt haunting yet warm that the mothers kept reappearing throughout the life of this grief. That repetition created a chorus of voices that angers and despairs, yet cradles the speaker.