Estranged (Out West)
Estranged (Out West)
She broke the everywhere flat
by interpretive dance, saying
“this time I’ve got a good one,
no, really–”
until he pulled to the side
of emptiness
and she jumped up, lay down, flailed,
a complex choreography enacting eggs
scrambled or banana smoothies
under construction.
He never could guess
that her collapse in two
showed the cracking,
her arches her unpeel,
the quiver (frying)
the whirl (time
in the blender)
but as the gravel poked warmth
into her bare
feet, arms, he would
laugh at last,
his throat echoing
the rough swish
of her movement,
all that could be heard in that desert
except the tick of the engine;
you know how cars do that sometimes,
after they’ve stopped.
*******************************************
Another very drafty poem for some day of April National Poetry Month. I am linking this one to Shanyn’s prompt on dVerse Poets Pub about road trips.
Explore posts in the same categories: poetryTags: April National Poetry Month, interpretive dance poem, manicddaily, on the warm empty shoulder poem, road trip poem, what we write about when we write about love
You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.
ManicDDaily 
April 23, 2014 at 1:45 am
Intriguing.
April 23, 2014 at 7:46 am
i like how you incorporated dance in this….the interpretive toward the beginning….and the chorepgraphy later…if i was going to break down the last place i would want to be is the desert…it can be merciless….
April 23, 2014 at 7:49 am
I like this little interlude that breaks up a long trip and makes sense only to lovers who carry the history that backdrops this. In the desert it’s only them and their shared laughter at a quirky dance.
April 23, 2014 at 9:29 am
I see you’ve worked your interpretive dancing persona in, and I’m glad–it really works well here–how we try so hard to communicate an idea, a feeling, a concept–yet so often despite the flourish and drama and work we put into it, it goes uncomprehended–glad that here at least the dance made a positive impression. I especially like the ending, which seems to say there is always something going on after we think it’s over. Anyway, that’s my impression–but I may be just one more member of the audience who can’t tel a smoothie from scrambled eggs. ;_)
April 23, 2014 at 9:41 am
Believe me, it is not easy to tell unless you watch VERY carefully.
On Wed, Apr 23, 2014 at 10:29 AM, ManicDDaily wrote:
>
April 23, 2014 at 10:16 am
This vivid wicked little scene, sweet, zany, is like a scene from a Coen Brothers film; it touches you, tickles you, intrigues you; & the wordsmithing is flawless; really enjoyed the interlude.
April 23, 2014 at 12:35 pm
This amazes me. So creative!
April 23, 2014 at 12:41 pm
but see, if this is drafty, then it perfectly fits with your subject and in the context of the dance, the what-comes-next of the last stanza to which HW alludes, and to the interpretation ‘he’ comes to when he finally laughs at her movement. I think. 🙂 ~
April 23, 2014 at 1:45 pm
Wonderful poem! I love the dancing interaction.
April 23, 2014 at 3:50 pm
What a great way to interpret the prompt.. so many ways I can read the he and she her…
April 23, 2014 at 3:56 pm
How fun. Not sure that’s a dance I’d want to do on hot desert asphalt, though.
April 23, 2014 at 6:34 pm
Karin, I read so much of fun elements here, smiles. Loved it 🙂
April 23, 2014 at 8:38 pm
Cool! Very cool. Love the engine ticking – that sound just is so cool to me! 🙂
April 24, 2014 at 7:46 am
“Pulled to the side of emptiness”!
“his throat echoing the rough swish …”
Oh layers, layers, as we put ourselves there, cracked open, estranged. alien, soaking it in and making footprints and memories.
I.Love.This. I will not ask how you know this deeply. Wow.
April 25, 2014 at 7:31 am
Thanks so much, Susan, for your kind comment. k.