LAMENTATIONS 

"Hunger, dear woman, is a wanderer through the streets telling people about the dissatisfactions with her children."

A car, at rest in the long thoroughfare through the city, reminds the poet of a family that fixes a conforming eye on that which wants to be free. An angry stillness make the machines appear they have life in them. As though the human drivers are meaningless, transitory figures the car will have no use for in the future.

It's been over a year since the poet has driven a car. Walking resurrects the city in him with a body that fills his mind always threatened by the emptiness of abstractions.

A city of good walks is a lively city!

He no longer desires to pass his fellow citizens. But, certainly, he has no desire to drive.

The hunched up cars remind him of an angry will of anonymous souls he meets with in books. The one's who have told him how they have died and what they feared.

© 2001 David Eide. All rights reserved.