Headlines
Darkness
Rising surge of shadow
wall pointing outward
the swirl, the catch
the breeze moans
Mother stands at last alone
clean up and somehow she is missing
too late to go back to find
the cry
the wail
the turned line smile that is vanishing
within the shadow
Wheels are torn
roots are spread
the silt stinking water
at the breaking
the rising flood
Savior rises slowly
But in the morning
the flashes break on this face
too young to make a frown or smile
looking upward
Headlines
A boy drowned last night
victim of the rain
I am lost
rain, tear printed infant
rain, tear printed infant
Hands crawl on the wall
swept away in the black rush
Fluorescent fabrication
the passing of things
glittering on the glass
it all falls down to nothing
And the window
looking out the screen
tireless and pitiless roar
water falls
Breathless anticipation
drowning
swept away in the black rush
Fluorescent fabrication
the passing of things
glittering on the glass
it all falls down to nothing
And the window
looking out the screen
tireless and pitiless roar
water falls
Breathless anticipation
drowning
I speak
though I wish it wasn’t ending
this rain
this stormy night
though I wish it wasn’t ending
this rain
this stormy night
Rising surge of shadow
wall pointing outward
the swirl, the catch
the breeze moans
My lips dry
Mother stands at last alone
clean up and somehow she is missing
too late to go back to find
the cry
the wail
the turned line smile that is vanishing
within the shadow
Tear printed infant
the damp brush of the rain
the damp brush of the rain
Wheels are torn
roots are spread
the silt stinking water
at the breaking
I am swept away
soundless, voiceless
soundless, voiceless
the rising flood
How cold the deep?
I watch the muddy river rise
and suck down the willows
the branches, the leaves a mile downstream
before they wondered
and suck down the willows
the branches, the leaves a mile downstream
before they wondered
Savior rises slowly
But in the morning
the flashes break on this face
too young to make a frown or smile
looking upward
Headlines
A boy drowned last night
victim of the rain
posted by read | 4:03 PM
3 Comments:
I like the format of this one. Also, the question, "How cold the deep?" On another subject, am about thirty pages into The Road...a bit disappointing in that it doesn't feel as though it's McCarthy at his best...certainly, a stripped-down narrative, language. Guess that coincides with the subject.
Thanks for your comment, Mr. Kleeman. I hope you like The Road the further you get into it. It is a strange novel because of the constant tension and the let down of an ending, but it's also interesting. I never read any other Cormac McCarthy, so I don't have anything to compare it to. Well, I leave for Montana tomorrow morning, but I'll try to keep up with my blog.
Hey Read,
By now I'm sure you're settled-in to your Montana digs...must be exciting and a relief, of sorts, to be back there.
Finished The Road last night. I got over my initial disappointment by realizing that McCarthy took a risk in writing differently than previous books. In fact, his literary legacy is one of continuous change, stylistically. From his earliest books which are so "dense" in their prose to this, one can really note how his art has progressed.
As for the story, not much different than other post-apocalyptic writings aside from his emphasis on what could be the counterexample of life on earth as we know it--an impression that sticks with me as I walk or look outside--just how much we have!I really liked the father/son relationship. As you pointed out in your paper, I think, this is a love story and despite the bleak environment, one of small hope. I like how McCarthy ends his story, on the paragraph of what was once and "cannot be put back". Although there are short passages of obfuscating ambiguity throughout, this is a fine writing.
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