“Give me your hand,”
she said; I thought
she was a palm reader. But
no, she'd fallen into a stale
Summer job. Still wearing
a plastic name-tag from
that movie theater.
“Your hand,” she held out
her own, waiting firmly.
So I added my palm to her
finger curves. Then she spun
away, taking back
her face (but keeping
my hand in hers).
So I found myself
with that one arm kidnapped,
growing warm on her
waist. “And the other one,”
she said, reaching over
her shoulder, expectantly
returning half her face.
So I gave up my last palm;
she placed it on her collar,
drew it down along
her sternum, to rest on her ribs.
At this point, I spoke up:
“What's your name?”
She whispered “This,”
her short-ribs humming: “I watch
couples, day on day, sitting down
in the same felt-walled abyss,
staring toward projector lights.
But not really, right? They
all go in like this: for this.
Just for this.” An hour like them, we stayed.
Finally, I broke the lock, “I have to
go. But what's your name?”
“Nope,” she held.
“First?” “No.”
“Middle?” “...Just,” she breathed.
“Your last name, then. It's—?”
“This.”
I laughed,
but she didn't.
Serene.
Still I hear her:
“Nope.
No.
Just this.”
When I initially began reading the first stanza of this poem, I felt as though this was simply a strange interaction between two individuals. The speaker evidently does not know the woman too personally, and is therefore confused when she asks for his hand. As a result, I found the opening mood of the poem to be curious and peculiar, as I could not quite grasp the overarching reasoning behind these two individuals' encounter.
ReplyDeleteHowever, as I proceeded to read the remainder of the poem, I sensed a feeling of intimacy and a mysterious perception of warmth and closeness, which therefore made me deduce that this poem is perhaps about the importance of an emotional and a closely connected physical attraction as opposed to the expected, redundant routine of meeting someone for the first time.
The detailed descriptions of the woman placing the speaker's hand on her waist and her ribs made me feel relatively uncomfortable and confused, as it seemed as though she was driving him to violate her personal space, and he didn't even know her name. Furthermore, when he continuously asks for her name, it got me thinking about the times when I have met people for the first time, and what prompts me to want to know their name. Ultimately, fluid conversation and intriguing personalities cause me to want to know more about an individual; therefore, it made me think that the inexplicable and perplexing actions of the woman was compelling for the speaker, and that's why he wanted to know her name.
"it seemed as though she was driving him to violate her personal space": how is this possible? If anything, she's violating his hand space ;)
DeleteSummer romances are brief, like the most intense of fires only to be extinguished by the follies of time. There's a particular sadness and pain to be connotated with them, because they are doomed to end before they even begin. The poem above is tinted in this shade of melancholia, likely inspired by real events that transpired, and I can only feel bad because it is evident that the boy in the poem (likely the same depicted in the picture above) wants more than just the stale popcorn flavor of a short lived summer romance, but the girl he stars with shares no such interest. If anything, he is caught off guard because of it all, and fails to really know who he himself (since he never says his name to her) or who she is. All she wants is "just this" - and makes the decision on both their parts that there is nothing more to it than just that. To him, as he keeps asking for more, it reveals that there is a hole where a decision should be, and because he thinks back on it, it is clear that he always wanted more.
ReplyDeleteThe saddest part to me isn't that he wanted more, but that by romanticizing the past to the extent that he does, he perverts the original scene in his mind to become more mythical than the movies she would have watched from her job at the movie theater.
This poem was difficult to understand because of the strangeness of the scenario being described. From the first couple of verses, it is obvious that the speaker and the woman being described are strangers, which is why he is taken aback by her request for his hand. The speaker does not even know the woman’s name. However, the woman requests for him to participate in a seemingly intimate activity with her. She leads his hand to touch her waist as well as her shoulder and creates a situation that sounds very awkward and uncomfortable but it is described as a natural occurrence. Although I’m not sure if the speaker enjoys touching the woman in an intimate fashion, he certainly does not object to it.
ReplyDeleteDespite the fact that they are touching each other as if they are closely related or connected, the speaker still does not know the woman’s name. Each time he asks for it, the woman responds by saying, “this,” which I believe is referring to the intimate moment that is being described. The woman does not seem to see a future or a past with the speaker and instead asks him to focus on the present. Because of this emphasis on the present and immediate sensory experiences, this poem reminds me of The Stranger by Albert Camus. In The Stranger, the protagonist Meursault is treated as an outcast because of the way he does not let the past, future, or societal norms dictate his actions; rather, he acts according to how he feels and the circumstances in the present. Similarly, the woman in this poem repeats “this” to draw attention to the present, dismissing the need to know each other’s names, because to her, the present is what matters and the present does not require either of them to know each other’s names.
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Delete:) I love the way you describe the discomfort of being insistently pulled into the present.
Delete