This Probably Won't Get Me The Book, But ...

What are we doing here
--In this improbable place
----At such an unlikely time;
The congruence of endless improbabilities
--Assorting independently;
-------In one direction,
-------E = mc^2;
-------In another
-------A lonely young girl
----------Hustling strangers at the bus-stop
----------For money to buy heroin;
Fallen angels ...
This tired street;
Outside,
-------the woman hitching for tricks,
-------crying and shouting at the cars in her despair
-------because no one stops;
-------It's raining and she's got no place to go;
------------Food for her kids ...
Outside,
----the lonely girl at the bus-stop,
-------"Do you want some company?"
-------She sweetly asks;
-----------But I'm on my way to school ...

When do we stop seeing them as stereotypes
And begin to see them as human beings;
The common humanity
Of our shared genes?
Genetics class, U.B.C. Fall 1994

About This Poem

Last Few Words: This is the first poem I wrote about this girl at the bus stop who accosted me one September morning as I was on my way to school. It also mentions a woman I saw one rainy night coming home late from school. (That first semester was brutal: Lectures from 8:30 to 12:30, with a one hour break, then lectures until 4:30. A break followed by lab work that could begin, depending upon subject, at 5:00 or at 7:00 and would usually last two to three hours. In addition, I was also involved with a group who were trying to bring back our student newspaper that had been cancelled the year before by the AMS, and I was doing work study. Sometimes, I wouldn't get home until midnight! And then I would type up all my notes and begin working on Maths problems until about 2:00 a.m.) This poem will be followed by one I wrote that went into more detail about that encounter.

Style/Type: Free verse

Review Request Direction: [This option has been removed]

Review Request Intensity: I appreciate moderate constructive criticism

Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft

About the Author

Region, Country: British Columbia, Canada, CAN

Favorite Poets: I like the first world war poets. Robert Service. Poe had some fab poems. Shakespeare's sonnets (Including the ones embedded in his romantic plays). Blake. I am more inclined to like particular poems (such as Poe's "The Raven" and "The Bells" or Ginsberg's "Howl". Not a big fan of Bobbie Dylan and don't think he should have won a Nobel Prize. (Len Cohen was a better poet if you ask me.) I quite like Hope Sandoval's "lyrics". I love Sappho and Tekahionwake (aka E Pauline Johnson). First discovered Sappho about ten years ago. First got turned onto E Pauline Johnson in 1981 when I found a book of her poems in a used bookshop. I now have first editions (1913) of Flint and Feathers (collected poems), Legends of Vancouver and her collection of short stories for boys. Her poem, "The Cattle Thief" says it all about how Canada has treated the Aboriginal inhabitants of this country. The Lost Generation Poets and Edgar Allen Poe were probably my biggest influences, . I do quite like e e cummings though. Can't imagine anyone being able to write like him without looking like a copycat.

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Comments

Lord Barham

2 years 11 months ago

addendum to above

The follow-up to this poem has physical structuring that I may have trouble duplicating on this website. It will be interesting to see if I can figure out how to do it.