line up
stand on one line to register
at a clinic showing your card
to see medical staff on duty
sit and wait and wait and wait
until a guy rushes in fast talk
handing you some prescription
stand on a line marked exit
to pay for the visit where they
take checks cash or credit
drive away cautiously sure
never to cross over any
double yellow traffic lines
stand on winding line at
drug counter now paying
for an unknown medicine
stand on L O N G line to buy
something to eat unable
to decipher nutrition labels
make sure to line up your
car when you come home
carefully keeping it vertical
walk quickly down that
long line of apartments
each door mud brown
this shows you follow the
straight and narrow in this
personal hell of lines
today’s bottom line is
minus $220 and a small
frozen pizza for dinner
broken dream
into dream of gray
imprisoned within gray stone
away from fragrant red roses
far from soft green grass
behind gray walls unable
to breathe in air like cement.
can you remember smooth
oceans or recall falling stars?
imprisoned for too long.
walls begin to crack open
stones knocked over steel bars
crushed walls blasted into bits.
now you can breathe no longer
enclosed finding this world
this world lies in front of you
pulsating alive free
all the noise
constant chatter of streaming news
death turmoil destruction spaced
with random acts of kindness
togetherness as families reunite
after leaving that COVID expanse
some young unable to walk now
policing and surveillance everywhere
yet vandals continue under
“boys will be boys” becoming men
pushing women around grabbing their
genitals blackening eyes burning down
houses cursing those who bring life
drugs the great spider web to keep
workers marching in step AND constant
appeals for donations to politicians
those who claim to be famous
are more infamous than ever
showing off their bling for brains
noon day demon
after police cars careened downtown
sirens screaming across streets
neighborhood schools locked down
after press reporters photographers
combed the vicinity canvassing
live witnesses or local authorities
after the gunman was shot down
but no one could understand his rage
camouflaged by quiet politeness
after helicopters lifted the injured from
wired baskets to trauma centers while
gleaming black bags were carried out
after everyone remarked how bright
blue morning had turned to blood red
afternoon marked by thin yellow tape
after blinking lights ashen faces
cries of distress faded into gray
there was nothing to do but return
to business as usual
Reservoir
I can no longer separate the poem from that day
both imperfect lonely paraphrasing.
Perhaps you can imagine air dense occasional sun
on face hard brown grass at the reservoir in
New England trees spill their leaves like many hands
falling in despair gulls crying crying at New England
reservoir rippling rippling how old I am becoming
searching still searching.
Too tired embarrassed nude inside why say anything
annoyed amazed at circles with circles diffusion
of leaves rings of water movement of people moving
moving all this moving toward no exact point
only this cluster of conjecture.
One thought on “Poetry from Joan McNerney”
I love these! Like you, I am generally weary of lines, but not your lines of verse.
I love these! Like you, I am generally weary of lines, but not your lines of verse.