Unoccupied

These old Jeeps

behind the house

rotting like the dead

back into the air around me

like a vision of mid-last-century

America

Vision of me on the bus

Blue-Jeans

Blue woodsmen shirt

Kerouacking down the east-coast

Sure,

a real beat guy,

hip

Beaten

Beleaguered

Now snagged and dragged by fact

Vision to hell with it

In the me-back-of-the-bus

Stinking bus

The Jamaican next to me, his dreads on

my shoulder

Chatting about his sex life

He bangs white chicks

Hope all gone looking out the window

But hoping still

Things’ll get better when I get there

Right New York?

That great big city, the city of ‘em all, majestic

Me with my little Zen turtle around my neck

coming in on 7^th Ave 

But when I get there it’s all cleared out

The Jazz charges $21

The village is all French

restaurants and hipsters living off trusts

and $10 crepes I buy ‘cause I’m hungry

Clubs at Columbia are all closed

Still

here we are

Here I am

Is there really any we anymore?

Is there just me? Me and you but no we?

The first on a new century just like the first on the last,

lost

Blinded to their wanderings by the techno-wrap

around their eyes

By the awakening, by the time they realize

it’ll be too late

It’ll be all over, again

We’re the first on a new century just like the last

Even less hopeful

Even more

Lost

Author's Note

Let me know what you think with all blazing and critical honesty. Try your hardest to find something wrong with it.
Thank you.

Reviews

[Brandon Wilson]

I'm not very knowledgeable when it comes to writhing, just started to venture into it. But in my rather new and perhaps unfounded opinion this poem interests me. I like the way you described the Jeeps behind the house "rotting like the dead" it conveys a feeling of sadness at something lost. Also I connect to the the two lines
"Is there really any we anymore?
Is there just me? Me and you but no we?"
I have the feeling that I am disconnected form people sometimes, I have friends and am a happy person but sometimes I just feel like the relationships we have with people are very shallow, like we don't actually connect. I cant assign a numerical value to this poem, but I can say that I like the ideas you presented and that I connected with it.

[SydneyLK]

Thank you, I am glad that you connected with it. That is really my main goal when writing is to connect to the other person, and I'm happy I succeeded with this one.

[Yet, Nobody...? Here.]

Your ability to create a vivid lead for the next line may enable you to capture by implication, without ever stating "the next line." If you did this - writing with your leads and leaving some statements opened (and much more to imagine) - it could make you powerful.

I am actively exercising with the opposite - how many gaps can exist and still create strong direction? Forgive me for altering your words...

"But hoping still
Things’ll get better when I get there
((Right New York?))
((That great big city,)) the city of ‘em all, majestic
Me with my little Zen turtle around my neck
((coming in)) on 7th Ave
But ((when I get there)) it’s all cleared out"

Now, without the ((lines)) you have:

"But hoping still
Things’ll get better when I get there
the city of ‘em all, majestic
Me with my little Zen turtle around my neck
on 7th Ave
But it’s all cleared out..."


And I'm thinking:

New York, Right?
The big city/apple
Empty when he arrived?
Why? Too Late?

"Too Late?" which pops up later in the poem as ((..it’ll be too late..)), but you already made me know it. So maybe all you really need to say is there, but perhaps it is just a little techno-wrapped...which doing this only in that particular line and the adjacent lines might have been a sweet effect!

[SydneyLK]

Thank you for your very well thought out review!
I'm glad to be getting constructive ideas. I'm definitely going to think about that "less is more" idea, which I usually only apply to my haiku. I'm going to run this by my mentor and see what comes up. Thanks for the idea!

[Yet, Nobody...? Here.]

Good example is Hemingway (your jeeps reminded me of the style...with that was said, I'm nearly positive of their every other feature); short strong jabs. Another common classic is Gatsby, which reads this way too - it's fun to try to find a wasted word in that one. Also a really good read, again, before the film is released, again.

[Yet, Nobody...? Here.]

*...with what was said

[SydneyLK]

True, these are good classics, and Hemingway was an early influence on me. Fitzgerald I was never a huge fan of, except for "The Crack-up". The biggest influence on me has been Kerouac, with his wildly written verse, trying to just stretch and flow and connect to everything at the same time.