Poem of the Day
1981
By Asiya Wadud
in a world the orange sun resets
in a world the orange sun resets
Who’d known about soybean stew or what
A camshaft did or how asparagus grew?
Even the much-mowed grass was new to those
Cynical millenarian, I like
You in this shot, posed without
Insignia or emblems,
“Good trembling,” CJ said as we
Walked along the docksides in our thin jackets
Even though it was winter on the East Coast.
The train swayed past cropped fields,
Barking collies, abandoned gas works, cows.
Brown bungalows with little gardens
The log-crammed trucks smash the yielding air,
Whine like leviathan gnats.
Last week a trucker died at the wheel
The smothering heat of a July night
Squats in a second floor bedroom
And doesn’t move despite the desk fan’s
She didn't like him: long nose baits,
Voice patient yet overbearing (a voice
Meant for a world of women-as-children).
He'd expect a yielding kiss if not more.
Fever and ooze, fever and ooze:
Pronoun by pronoun, verb by irregular verb,
Winter grows great with spring: March:
Lured by the wall, and drawn
To stare below the roof,
Where pigeons nest aloof