The Idle Childless (by Philip Metres)

Philip Metres - poet, translator, educator
[photo taken by Jesus Crisis at Cleveland's Literary Cafe on 9/11/2008]
The Idle Childless
The largely-unpuked-upon
dine in Thai Gardens every Friday night,
decide between Mango Lassi or Mai Tai,
discuss the tonal color of their favorite
Tuvan throat singers, Huun Huur Tu,
and lose a whole hour plotting
their annual worldspinning travel—
whose thoughts saunter like couples
on the observation deck of a cruise,
stand chatting before the banquet table,
freshened drinks in hand,
who can retire to bed whenever they choose,
with whomever they choose,
and wake whenever they can no longer
sleep—who, upon waking, occasionally
wonder what it was they’d forgotten,
the thread of it left behind in a dream,
and though they tug at it, it unhooks itself,
slips off, like a pair of glasses
over the ship’s railing, and sinks
to the bottom of whatever ocean they float over.
This piece appears in Metres' prize-winning collection To See the Earth
(Cleveland State University Press, 2008)
and is included in the Crisis Chronicles Library by permission
All rights remain with Philip Metres
Visit Philip Metres online at www.philipmetres.com
Follow his blog at http://www.behindthelinespoetry.blogspot.com/
Drop him a line at pmetres@jcu.edu
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I presume Philip is not childless since the first line could only be written by some one who has been puked upon. What do these barren people know of the wonders of puking babies and sleepless nights?
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Wow - I like this poem lots!
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Wow. That might be me sometime... oh wait i'm childless, but not idle. you have to be able to aford idleness - and for that matter childrens.
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This particular poem reminds me just a little of what I heard from Zachary on Tuesday night..
He has a nice way of pulling forward elemnts and threads that aren't obvious.... things for us to think about.. look at... I like the way he thinks and expresses his ideas.
Does he still teach at John Carroll University?
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Thanks, Chris! Yes, he does.
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Dear good readers, this is one of the few poems I've written that has a bit of cruelty--but it's a cruelty borne out of wounded jealousy, for those whose lives are freer than the speaker's. It's one of those poems that might make the parent-types feel heard, and might piss off the rest for its mischaracterizations.
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Bare truths are often veiled in mischaracterizations I think.... I think a good writer uses them without any shame to make a point.
Thanks for the inside look Philip.
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Yes, thank you, Philip! And thanks to everyone who's commented. I love it when poetry stimulates discussion.
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