{"id":14894,"date":"2023-09-14T17:39:05","date_gmt":"2023-09-14T15:39:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=14894"},"modified":"2023-09-16T17:39:56","modified_gmt":"2023-09-16T15:39:56","slug":"poems-by-john-grey-9","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/?p=14894","title":{"rendered":"poems by John Grey"},"content":{"rendered":"

The kids of my year<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

So there they are –<\/p>\n

not in alphabetical order<\/p>\n

but in three rows by height –<\/p>\n

that’s Adamson, Jensen and Barkley at the back-<\/p>\n

but who’s the blond kid?<\/p>\n

and why is that face-pulling prickle-head<\/p>\n

only vaguely familiar?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The middle is dominated by McLean –<\/p>\n

such a smirk,<\/p>\n

like he owned not just the classroom<\/p>\n

but the world beyond it.<\/p>\n

And, on his left, stands Craven,<\/p>\n

his right hand man.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The ones in the front row<\/p>\n

are all seated \u2013<\/p>\n

four are even girls \u2013<\/p>\n

Julie something,<\/p>\n

Brenda Wright<\/p>\n

or was it Wilson?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Some memories arrive fully formed \u2013<\/p>\n

like Bobby \u2013<\/p>\n

I can feel his fist<\/p>\n

pounding my upper arm.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But others are so flimsy<\/p>\n

that I don’t even bother trying to focus them \u2013<\/p>\n

yes they have faces, upper bodies,<\/p>\n

but it’s still not enough for them<\/p>\n

to breathe and talk and move around.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And there I am, middle row,<\/p>\n

not smiling, not grimacing, not anything.<\/p>\n

What a pathetic looking sod.<\/p>\n

Luckily, I have other ways of knowing me.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The voice of progress<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

In every New England state,<\/p>\n

mill towns junk their water wheels,<\/p>\n

turn rotting floors into three-bedroom apartments.<\/p>\n

Once the very last prayer is offered up to heaven,<\/p>\n

churches are sold off to condominium developers.<\/p>\n

The past is dead. The present inherits<\/p>\n

and is eager to spend its good fortune.<\/p>\n

Even ruins look presentable when totted up.<\/p>\n

So battlefields are malls.<\/p>\n

Sacred burial grounds become parking lots.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Who needs that last stand of trees, for example,<\/p>\n

when we have carpenters and brick layers,<\/p>\n

electricians and plumbers.<\/p>\n

And show me a strip of desert<\/p>\n

that a new casino can\u2019t improve upon.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sure, time is money. But so is space.<\/p>\n

Wasted space. Like places where someone<\/p>\n

might go to just sit and think.<\/p>\n

So why not sit and think in new office space?<\/p>\n

And what\u2019s a nesting owl compared to the inscrutable face<\/p>\n

of a bank lending officer perched behind a mahogany desk?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Even do-nothing rivers can be collated,<\/p>\n

dammed into usefulness, a sense of wonder<\/p>\n

coerced into a show of force.<\/p>\n

Where once was history, now gather investors.<\/p>\n

And nature\u2019s where it belongs \u2013 elsewhere.<\/p>\n

Yes, mosquitoes are a holdout<\/p>\n

and they\u2019re as stubborn as college kids with signs.<\/p>\n

But their death is imminent<\/p>\n

if a better way of life has anything to do with it.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Just remember, when the future is inevitable.<\/p>\n

no use pretending that it\u2019s rape.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

You leave in winter<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Those are your footprints<\/p>\n

leading from my stoop<\/p>\n

to the front gate.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The snow\u2019s compacted,<\/p>\n

preserved them,<\/p>\n

even as it buries the path,<\/p>\n

the garden.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Your departure<\/p>\n

is trapped, slowed to a stillness.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Come spring,<\/p>\n

the flowers will bloom.<\/p>\n

Your leaving will thaw.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Do not disturb<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sure I\u2019m skeptical,<\/p>\n

and somewhat cerebral<\/p>\n

with an unruly dress sense,<\/p>\n

and I can be absorbed one minute<\/p>\n

and totally indifferent the next \u2013<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

not elegant, that\u2019s for sure,<\/p>\n

not first thing in the morning,<\/p>\n

and raucous from time to time,<\/p>\n

emotional, nonsensical,<\/p>\n

and artistic once I convince<\/p>\n

my hand to steady \u2013<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I\u2019m weary and solemn and angry,<\/p>\n

musical and occasionally avant-garde,<\/p>\n

but only when realism is not working for me,<\/p>\n

expressive, experimental, somewhat difficult,<\/p>\n

more lyrical than visual,<\/p>\n

and up-to-date, even post-up-to-date,<\/p>\n

not a parent, more of an Uncle,<\/p>\n

and as white as an egret\u2019s feathers<\/p>\n

in the parts of my body where the sun doesn\u2019t shine \u2013<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I am not Jewish though I would be if I was,<\/p>\n

reflective, on-edge, often at the same time,<\/p>\n

misguided on my mother\u2019s side,<\/p>\n

but with my father\u2019s narratives,<\/p>\n

a tryer, a roller-coaster, an interrogator,<\/p>\n

a slave to my craft –<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

yes, it\u2019s a burden being all these things,<\/p>\n

but a curl-up in a quiet corner<\/p>\n

is often my ticket out.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Widow crying over the remains of her husband found in mass grave<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

He walked towards town.<\/p>\n

She stood by herself<\/p>\n

in a damp field.<\/p>\n

It could have been anywhere, anytime.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She couldn\u2019t sleep<\/p>\n

wondering why he hadn\u2019t returned.<\/p>\n

Went for long strolls,<\/p>\n

lost in her thoughts of the worst<\/p>\n

that could have happened to him.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The air smelt of the earth they farmed.<\/p>\n

A new government\u2019s soldiers<\/p>\n

dragged the weight of the war<\/p>\n

out of soil more useful for growing rice.<\/p>\n

They found bones both white and green.<\/p>\n

Grinning skulls with nothing to grin about.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Hearing the news,<\/p>\n

she ran barefoot down the gutted street.<\/p>\n

Sank to her knees<\/p>\n

when the soldiers tried to hold her back.<\/p>\n

It was so much easier<\/p>\n

to think of him alive<\/p>\n

when his favorite ring<\/p>\n

wasn\u2019t gleaming through the mud.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

By the times tears touched her cheeks,<\/p>\n

they were already scars.<\/p>\n

It was a lonely and useless end<\/p>\n

to her vigilance.<\/p>\n

Her heart had long encouraged her.<\/p>\n

But none of what it said was true.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Character instructions\u00a0 <\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Far from any highway,<\/p>\n

or town for that matter,<\/p>\n

follow the trail through thick woods,<\/p>\n

narrow and sunless<\/p>\n

but aided by occasional tree markings,<\/p>\n

that leads to a cave,<\/p>\n

a labyrinth really,<\/p>\n

with tunnels branching off<\/p>\n

in many directions,<\/p>\n

but the one you want<\/p>\n

drops down to the shore<\/p>\n

of an underground river,<\/p>\n

that you must wade across<\/p>\n

to reach a passageway on the other side<\/p>\n

where you should begin to see<\/p>\n

strange markings on the walls,<\/p>\n

silken threads dangling from the ceiling<\/p>\n

that give the impression<\/p>\n

of broken spider wings,<\/p>\n

bones scattered here and there<\/p>\n

on the muddy floor<\/p>\n

and you\u2019ll hear strange noises,<\/p>\n

like a gorilla in great pain<\/p>\n

though it\u2019s coming from no great ape,<\/p>\n

and much scurrying about,<\/p>\n

lots of moving shapes,<\/p>\n

shadows darting back and forth<\/p>\n

across your flashlight ray,<\/p>\n

before you finally enter this large chamber,<\/p>\n

lit by glittering jewels,<\/p>\n

with an altar on one end<\/p>\n

and what appears to be a dark-robed man<\/p>\n

conducting some kind of service<\/p>\n

for twenty or so similarly-cloaked acolytes,<\/p>\n

who bow their heads, hum softly,<\/p>\n

with an occasional break<\/p>\n

for an impassioned, \u201cYes master\u201d,<\/p>\n

before their leader suddenly<\/p>\n

notices your presence, and all heads turn,<\/p>\n

gleaming red eyes stare threateningly at you,<\/p>\n

and then you\u2019ll know you have arrived \u2013<\/p>\n

I can\u2019t say whether you\u2019ll live or die,<\/p>\n

but you\u2019re in chapter ten of my new novel.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The kids of my year   So there they are – not in alphabetical order but in three rows by height –<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1653,77],"tags":[1654,1123,1393],"class_list":["post-14894","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-77","category-english","tag-egophobia-77","tag-english","tag-john-grey"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-3Se","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14894","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=14894"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14894\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14895,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14894\/revisions\/14895"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=14894"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=14894"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=14894"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}