
Through a window darkly lit still bright enough to see while stocking TP
–Victoria Emmons, in isolation, 2020
Through a window darkly lit still bright enough to see while stocking TP
–Victoria Emmons, in isolation, 2020
What do you do in Suburbia
when the sky
turns rain time blue
at 2 in the afternoon
and the wind
blows the moss
horizontal for the first
time in months
and the trees
rub against
each other’s boughs
heralding a storm
and the hard, wet
sounds of rain
hit the asphalt
on your street
What do you do in Suburbia
when you wish
you had an Andrew Wyeth field
to run in, but
all you can see is
a concrete gutter
and 14 neat rectangles
of prescribed lots
when you strain to
hear the thunder
but your neighbor’s
mower drowns you out
and you look to see
sky and Earth touch, but you can’t
because TV antennae and dogs
let out to toilet are in the way
What do you do in Suburbia
wait until the cursed shower
hangs on every leaf
and disguises humankind
–Victoria Emmons © 1979