Downwind to nowhere May 20, 2013

 


Since she posted this poem after I posted a picture of RR on my site, I have to wonder if she went into her current situation with her eyes shut tightly.

I had perhaps mistakenly assumed that she had moved on from RR, and that the brilliant and moving love poems she posted a few months ago were meant for someone else.

Now, I’m not so sure.

The poem is clearly a reflection of something failing, some falling apart, hopes dashed like a ship against rocks.

She assumed she could handle the situation and the people who operate in the shadows, perhaps even seeing herself as one of them, a clever and illusive player, who could hold her own in their company, when they have made a profession as confidence men, and may well have used her, but given her nothing in return for her loyalty.

Again, all this is trying to figure out how a watch works without opening up the works, relying on clues left in poetry which often are too obtuse to give off anything accurate, not even the time of day.

But like most of her poems, the real meaning is not what it appears on the surface, and though it is full of bitterness, it is difficult to determine just who it is aimed at, and who it is she blames for her current situation.

This bitterness is emphasized by the rare use of foul language, which although apt to the title of the poem, is startling none of the less.

This poem does not reflect a naïve person whose eyes have been suddenly forced open to see harsh reality but implies someone who was part of the scheme and got cut out from what she expected to get as reward.

The opening line connotes surprise, something unexpected has occurred, followed by several lines that implies some confusion about expectations: “it gives; it gets off; on.”

Gets off suggesting some perverse amusement.

Then back to the central question: What gives?

Possible double meaning: such as what’s up? Or implying something that is supposed to give.

The next line, opening the second verse, raises perhaps the most fundamental question as to her expectation and what actually happened. “Is this all there is?”

Or is there something she doesn’t see, hidden away, stashed in the depths of the danger, “of the black, of the shit.”

She implies she didn’t get a whiff of it when she got into the thing. It smelled safe to her.

“But then again my nose is too quick to even trust what that must be like,” she wrote, a difficult line that possibly suggests that she is not attune to stench of such corruption so might not have recognized it for what it was, not until she was already immersed in it.

Barely in but forced to swim to get down wind from the odor of it and the flames that feed off the many dreams she foolishly feeds the flames with.

She clearly sees herself on the fringe of this, and now swims away from it, angry at herself for sharing her dreams, placing faith in their ambitious agenda, but clearly can no longer buy into their bullshit.

The poem suggests that she feels cheated out of something she either was promised or led to expect, something she feels she earned – perhaps even a place as an insider.

It is difficult to tell from the context of the poem if she sees this group self-destructing, or simply edging her out – even RR, with his position on the parking authority, does not seem to be one of the principle players. She may have gambled on his becoming one and may be disappointed on that account, or if not him, she may have made a play for a more significant role with someone else and finds herself still on the fringe and still without just rewards.

Far from being naïve, she simply seems to have gambled on the wrong horse and may well feel as left out as she did when she saw how incompetent the owner of the restaurant was three years ago and realized she wasn’t going to get what she wanted there, and perhaps sees the handwriting on the wall now that may bring her back to where she started, which is downwind to nowhere.

 

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