Saturday, February 16, 2013 | By: Brianna

Streetcar Poem

This Monday, I'm going to a local writing group at a library near my house.  They come up with a theme each month and you have to write on the theme.  This month's was "streetcar(s)," and I had no idea what to write.  So I wrote this poem that doesn't have a title yet, and already needs to be rewritten.  I'm kinda excited about the prospect of getting to meet writers in the neighborhood, and I'm sad that these meetings only happen once a month, which naturally means that I need to find more writing groups or start one myself.  I'm thinking every two weeks would be pretty neat.  So yeah.  Poem.


Streetcar Poem

If you hook up a trolley pole
to my heart and weld
roller skates to my feet,
maybe the wires would lead me
somewhere.

Electricity could prompt my pulse
to nudge positivity through my veins,
and my little roller skate wheels
could slide on down the road.

But don’t wires and cables
and those little metal valleys dug into the street
only go so far?

When I’m stuck, it’s you
who is Stella from “Streetcar”
while I’m Marlon Brando
screaming your name from the sidewalk,
tearing my hair in giant follicle fistfuls
because your window’s closed
or you’re just not listening.

Because your preoccupations
settle into your attention, reminding me that I’m pass√©
like the horse and carriage.

You’d much rather wrestle
with your concept of The Future illuminating
your computer screen,
never mind the chat box winking at you.

So when the pebbles lodge
in my roller skates
or the overhead wires cross and twist,
the only help I can rely on
is my own unwillingness
to stay in one place.

Because it really doesn’t matter
where the wires go
as long as following them means
I can find a Future for me.

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