Afternoons become acoustic

[dcmarti1]

(A little familiarity with DC would have more impact, but I think the jist is there.)

 

Hopkins Street, as usual,
has no open spaces.
I turn back and go
to 14 and P, where I pay
$60 a month
so I can see you on Wednesdays.

Neither the wind nor the leaves
have turned, so flesh will be
exposed and abundant
at Dupont Circle.
Yes, the constant drummers
play from the outer ring;
the twirler is under his same
south-west corner tree;
Lighthouse, with his guitar and amp, *
is just perceptible from
the north side metro;
Rascals doors are locked,
as it has not yet become
Riggs/PNC Bank or Chop't;
Betty may swim in the fountain today,
if she has been released;
and lastly, Ty Rant may be screaming
at the street lamp poles.

I assume you're with your kids,
but you're sleeping off a night
with someone I will sleep with later.
He left hours ago, and it's hours
before I will see you.

24 years later and I use “is”
where I should use “was”,
use present tense where past is correct,
use names of fountain icons
that no one can even remember,
and still I wait for that guitar and amp,
unplugged, to slide into Dupont Circle,
to compete with the drummers
for my attention and desire for lunch,
before afternoons become acoustic.


* Robert Lighthouse, DC area street musician

[Benjamin]

Interesting montage that corresponds with what you may see the world over. From Spanish guitarists to folk musicians, buskers and street mimes; the world turns on a human trait of those who want to see and be seen. "The worlds a stage..." and all that. Enjoyed. G.

[dr_con]

The title deserves respect! Thoroughly enjoyed the amble down to that moment of time, and the bittersweet reflection posited by the last stanza. Really a joy!

 

Juris

[eclipse]

such a different perspective you have captured in this piece-excellent

[dcmarti1]

A play on "Mourning becomes Electra", which, I must admit, I have not seen nor read but only know (generally) about. Thanks for reading.

 

The title deserves respect! Thoroughly enjoyed the amble down to that moment of time, and the bittersweet reflection posited by the last stanza. Really a joy!

 

Juris

[dcmarti1]

"All the world's a stage".....and most of us are missing our cues. :)

 

Thanks for reading.

 

Interesting montage that corresponds with what you may see the world over. From Spanish guitarists to folk musicians, buskers and street mimes; the world turns on a human trait of those who want to see and be seen. "The worlds a stage..." and all that. Enjoyed. G.

[dcmarti1]

I appreciate your time in reading. Thanks!

 

such a different perspective you have captured in this piece-excellent

[poetjohncompton]

the title is BRILLIANT!

 

i love the title!

the poem is fascinating.

 

 

I assume you're with your kids,
but you're sleeping off a night
with someone I will sleep with later.
He left hours ago, and it's hours
before I will see you.

 

that is the best stanza.

 

you rocked this poem. such greatness, & of course the last line.

 

how i've read this poem over & over & can't quench my thirst for it!

[David W. Parsley]

You are definitely on your game here, dc. Evocative with a note of nostalgia that jolts the present.

 

Thanks,

- Dave

[Tinker]

Hi Marty, your title set the tone and even though I got a little lost in a couple of passages not knowing the terrain, the message was loud and clear. I really enjoyed reading this.

 

~~Tink

[tonyv]

This is the work of Marti which takes me there.

... Neither the wind nor the leaves

have turned, so flesh will be
exposed and abundant
at Dupont Circle ...

 

It could as easily have been late last summer, three decades ago, or both.

 

Tony

[dcmarti1]

Thank you for reading and commenting. Ah, Dupont. Sigh. Life here in TX has gotten a little better with the docent job, but I just have no creative juices flowing right now. And now I learn of Frank's passing.

 

This is the work of Marti which takes me there.

... Neither the wind nor the leaves

have turned, so flesh will be
exposed and abundant
at Dupont Circle ...

 

It could as easily have been late last summer, three decades ago, or both.

 

Tony