Move-In For Me and... (poem) by Odin Roark on AuthorsDen

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Move-In For Me and...
by Odin Roark
Monday, September 10, 2012
Rated "PG13" by the Author.

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Recent poems by Odin Roark
•  MIght We?
•  Dixie Cup Memorial
•  hobbyhorse dreams
•  Toxic Cake
•  Love LIke a Sweater
•  Finding Home
•  Dying Alive
•  Showerhead Liberation
•  Doors and Entrances
•  Mind's Labor Camps
•  Funhouse Distortion
•  Rust-framed Reflections
•  Cobblestones Gasping
•  Age
           >> View all 481

Even back in ’56, Manhattan made you the never ending promise… the one many can spend a lifetime looking for. (An attempt to take an excerpt from my journal and reform it into prosetry. Does it work?)

Move-In For Me and...

‘56
First time
Hell's kitchen
Dollar a night
Two nights enough
Outa there

Sunday Times
Living for sale
Living for rent
Classified adventures unlimited

5 room too much
1 room too little
Gotta have my own bath

1½ room
Former tenant barely out
"You paint. I pay"
"Landlord give gallon"
Chicken shit green the color
Mix with no-match left overs
Voila 2nd gallon
"Enjoy" he says
"First of the month
No pay
No sleep"
Pats his bulldog
"Barks like Great Dane, yes?"
My nod seals the deal

Move in
My own mailbox keys
Hot Damn
Apartment
Regular entrance door
(always wedged open)

All mine now
Room
City
Streets
Now
I've arrived

Here where once
An immigrant slept
Wall street clerk studied
An actor prepared
A piano teacher drank
All lived
The trading shifts of Manhattan

Here where my windowpane
Reflects the drugstore neon
Light show entertainment accompanied by
Garbage trucks and cab horns
Honk
Whirl
Crunch
Honk
Whirrrrrll
Crunch Crunch
Especially on bulky junk days

Yellow cabs
Honk
Brake
Curse
Pick up fares
Drop off fares

Relax when I can
Eat
Work
Eat
Try harder to relax
Work
Drink
Struggle
Don't relax at all
Get fired

Move out day
What I can carry on my back
Out go worn rugs
Chairs
Bookshelves
To the curb
Watch the city pass by
Incoming tenant eyes the chair
Not me though
My kind of girl
I thought
Again

Yeah...

Time for new digs
Discover a new cave
Maybe a view of the night
Stars would be nice
Girls like the stars
Red-eye plane flights
Not so nice
Mess with my sleep where
Wished upon dreams
Really do come true
A job
A girl
A two room palace

No more lonely

Yeah

Just two rooms

For me and...

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Reviewed by Asa Seeley	9/17/2012

it works...i drank this one like a good bowl of soup. i like new york...like the 'feel' and atmosphere. found this out in my many short trips there(in and out)trying to push my music. like this sketch. like the 'feel' and atmosphere. thanks asa




Reviewed by Diana Legun	9/11/2012

Yes. It works. If this were written any other way than this, I don't believe the effect would be as moving and alive. Going straight down the list felt like travel to me. There was a progression that contained so much movement of event and detail that it read for me like a camera following someone's living out loud and zooming in on such detail, such as the envisionment of 'other lives' inside the space of your space. This is salted with so many flecks of gold, "Living for sale" "Chicken shit green..." (always wedged open) "What I can carry on my back" ".....eyes the chair" "Stars would be nice" and most of all: "...my sleep where/Wished upon dreams/Really do come true". Enjoyed this trip ~~ Diana




Reviewed by Ronald Hull	9/10/2012

I like this romp of innocent dreams in the gritty city. While I hankered for a place in San Francisco one time, finding it too ugly and dirty even for an engineers' salary, I never really desired to live in the big city. But I can see where it gave you your literary experience. Ron




Reviewed by Carolyn Dye	9/10/2012

love the poem about the big bad city and how you put your words to print, love seeing theworld from your eyes, thank you for doing what you do keep sharing please!!!!

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