Outside of Providence
My heart is a regional train yard
Sleepy, open to the elements and simmering
Train yard where I saw my first graffiti
Cryptic directions on a wall calling me to New York City
Region of cable spools, crossties and fast food trash
Short bus rusting in a stinging nettle snare
Heart of blue water oil slick rainbows
Sodden baseball diamond without a tarp
My oh my, when they blow the whistle
Oh my oh, when they sound the horn
Is glory always reinstated.
Our Neighbor
Gail lived in the apartment
On the top floor
She always seemed to be around
The German lady said she was a student
For much too long a time
She had a job once as a teacher
But she showed up at school with no shoes on
So they had to send her home
Gail! Gail! Gail! Gail! Gail! Gail! Gail!
The Peruvian super needed access
On behalf of the owners
But Gail sensed a conspiracy
Which kept her on lockdown
Yet when I had a piece of mail of hers
She forced her groaning door a crack
To reveal stacks of boxes and paper sacks
Piled to the ceiling and laid back to back
With barely even the narrowest path
For each step of her uncertain tread
Gail! Gail! Gail! Gail! Gail! Gail! Gail!
Her father called up to her window
While she laid out flat on the floor:
Please come down to see us
For we only want to help you
You can move home to your bedroom
Don’t you know we’ll always love you?...
Gail…
Who brought the swarthy stranger upstairs
Thief of pictures in the hallway
Made her tears rain down the airshaft
Gail…
Who showed up screaming at my doorstep
‘Cause the workmen banged the steampipe
Borrowed money from the German
For some mid-life orthodontics
Sat all night atop the stairwell
Once utilities were shut down
Gail……..Gail……..Gail……..Gail
Wouldn’t accept the eviction
Rolled her suitcase ‘round the corner
Sat in Krispy Kreme with eyes glazed
Grieved she missed the German’s funeral
Laid a blanket in the churchyard
Lost her smile in the nighttime
gail……..gail……..gail……..gail
Your name
And all its meaning
Like an echo
Slowly spreads out
Through the alleys
Of the isle
Of Manhattan.
David Lawton is the author of the poetry collection Sharp Blue Stream (Three Rooms Press) and chapbook Inspirative (Moonstone Arts), and serves as an editor for greatweatherforMEDIA. He has work currently in Atticus Review and Maintenant 15, and forthcoming in From The Inside: NYC through the eyes of the poets who live here (Blue Light Press) and Without a Doubt: Poems Illustrating Faith (NYQ Books).
