07-10-2022, 12:39 AM
Good one Tim-
Reminds me of growing up with 6 brothers on Sycamore Avenue, circa 1960. We'd create our own worlds of tree forts and imagined dungeons, and "go to war" with dirt clods and rotten persimmons; scare the hell out of each other just to see who could last the longest. Engaged in epic farting contests and toe fights...
Walking the cooling asphalt at twilight
there’s no mistaking our sins
misleading us into a summer night love it! and relate to the micheviousness
with rumors of an escaped mental patient
who scratches at our screens with a butcher knife. Yep, there was always one of those, or witches in the woods. Maybe "slices screen doors"
Behind a jumble of decrepit rabbit hutches
a root-wrecked wall in our backyard
protects us from spies creeping down the hillside. Those tattle-telling neighborhood kids
The tree snake climbing through the cedar
offers no promises of knowledge or power. For me and my brothers it was green snakes.
We’ve always lived here, no neighbors
to know us for what we are. We listen
to the country and western songs of distant radios, Didn't listen to radio since we couldn't afford transistor radioes til later.
and watch dancing static on a black and white TV,
imagining its patterns will tell us when it’s time: Very interesting stanza. We did have an old Muntz B&W TV.
time to flee or make a final stand
or to burn a grandmother’s tattered Bible Reminds me of getting kicked out of Catholic Sunday school for asking questions.
just to see the flames. This is home, Got in serious trouble for starting a fire in "the old man's" garage.
but its history rejects us, disbelieving liars,
for the pain of return, luring our street away. I've visited Sycamore Avenue, but only shadows remain.
This poem resonates with me, and I feel like I lived a version of it.
Thanks Tim
ps. I'm guessing that Woodview Avenue is in Austin TX, near Shoal creek
Reminds me of growing up with 6 brothers on Sycamore Avenue, circa 1960. We'd create our own worlds of tree forts and imagined dungeons, and "go to war" with dirt clods and rotten persimmons; scare the hell out of each other just to see who could last the longest. Engaged in epic farting contests and toe fights...
Walking the cooling asphalt at twilight
there’s no mistaking our sins
misleading us into a summer night love it! and relate to the micheviousness
with rumors of an escaped mental patient
who scratches at our screens with a butcher knife. Yep, there was always one of those, or witches in the woods. Maybe "slices screen doors"
Behind a jumble of decrepit rabbit hutches
a root-wrecked wall in our backyard
protects us from spies creeping down the hillside. Those tattle-telling neighborhood kids
The tree snake climbing through the cedar
offers no promises of knowledge or power. For me and my brothers it was green snakes.
We’ve always lived here, no neighbors
to know us for what we are. We listen
to the country and western songs of distant radios, Didn't listen to radio since we couldn't afford transistor radioes til later.
and watch dancing static on a black and white TV,
imagining its patterns will tell us when it’s time: Very interesting stanza. We did have an old Muntz B&W TV.
time to flee or make a final stand
or to burn a grandmother’s tattered Bible Reminds me of getting kicked out of Catholic Sunday school for asking questions.
just to see the flames. This is home, Got in serious trouble for starting a fire in "the old man's" garage.
but its history rejects us, disbelieving liars,
for the pain of return, luring our street away. I've visited Sycamore Avenue, but only shadows remain.
This poem resonates with me, and I feel like I lived a version of it.
Thanks Tim
ps. I'm guessing that Woodview Avenue is in Austin TX, near Shoal creek