Saturday, October 25, 2014

The Downtown Night Train




The ten o’clock train stop
Is a neon side-street carnival,
It glares and blinks,
Twists the feet of jazz artists
A grotesque crack in the pavement
Where young girls
Drop their dreams like weed seed,
Each of their bright eyes blooming
Like yellow harvest moons.
They roam the downtown square,
Legs as limber as bent willow branches,
They tease old men with fishnet legs,
Drink fine wine and wear perfume
Into bars where middle-aged women
Cackle bathroom gossip
Like wrinkled crows in old clothes,
Women who dread the nighttime
Windows of their high-rise walls,
The kids who’ve grown and gone,
The men with their matchbook numbers
Who never return the call.
Women who pull all-nighters
Playing pool and taking shots,
Tonight they roam residential avenues
In winter boots, dark and sliced
Into the gray shapes of footsteps and shadow.
They know each front-stoop
Is a proverbial doorway,
An invisible party invitation
That slams it’s entrance shut after midnight.


Written for a prompt at Warning The Stars Saturday.
Shared at dverse Open Link.

13 comments:

  1. you displayed the coldness of the life of women i've seen walking in some places in NY, Chicago, San Antonio, etc. i've always been intriqued by this way of life for those women whose hearts have been frozen by something, someone. wrote a paper, with some due diligence, in college...'night walker'.

    enjoyed this, gracias

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  2. This is a heartbreaking reality of lonliness and lack of self worth. You described it so well. I like the flow of it, too.

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  3. I have seen these women (am hoping not to become one of them). A chilling, lonely, very effective piece. I especially like "A grotesque crack in the pavement
    Where young girls
    Drop their dreams like weed seed,"

    Reminds me of Persephone…
    Thank you.

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  4. oh each city has these women..and i wonder what makes them do it...though often know...each has a different story that got them there though....far too many young girls...

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  5. This is a sad reality of life for many, I think you have captured the darkness and the loneliness..breaks my heart to think of young girls dropping their dreams.

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  6. Groovy piece. Love- " Twists the feet of jazz artists / A grotesque crack in the pavement / Where young girls / Drop their dreams like weed seed,"

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  7. I like your artwork but I love your poetry more...awesome.

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  8. Oh when I was young and roaming...although my short legs were never bending like willow branches...love the visuals as they evoke lots of emotions Stacy.

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  9. Wow, what a vivid picture of these women of the night. You have really captured / shed light on the scene well. This poem rings true, Stacy. Bravo.

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  10. What an excellent closing.

    Unfortunately, I fear I fall into this category at present: "Like wrinkled crows in old clothes"

    This is my favorite: "In winter boots, dark and sliced Into the gray shapes of footsteps"

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  11. You have thrown light on women we rarely see or even think about. Great lines, Stacy!

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  12. The night of women - so many excellent lines - they seem to be hunting..

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  13. has a noir feel to me - smoky cool and yet, knowing, if that makes sense ~

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Thank you for taking the time to comment, it is so appreciated. Your thoughts and critiques are always welcome! I will be by to visit your blog soon!