Conversions
One gallon of gas = twenty-four miles.
Twenty-four miles = twenty to thirty minutes.
Twenty to thirty minutes = seven songs.
Twenty to thirty minutes = one load in the washer.
One load in the washer = $2.25.
$2.25 = ten quarters.
$2.25 = a ride on the bus.
A ride on the bus = thirty blocks.
Thirty blocks = fifteen chances to ask to leave.
Thirty blocks = eighty signs.
Eighty signs = the city speaking to us.
The city speaking to us = voices from offstage bodies.
The city speaking to us = time travel.
Time travel = our return to a place.
Our return to a place = the pleasure of recognition.
Our return to a place = a commemoration.
A commemoration = it happened; it’s happening now,
and if we keep trying to make it happen
maybe we can stay here forever.
I like this a lot, Hannah, especially how you move the poem from the tangible and quantitative to the intangible. Nice contrast of values.
ReplyDeleteCute...funny how we work best with analogies, we need benchmarks...happy monday Hannah! xo
ReplyDeleteThis stanza:
ReplyDeleteTwenty to thirty minutes = one load in the washer.
One load in the washer = $2.25.
$2.25 = ten quarters.
Brilliant!
I like the movement of this poem, its progression, as well as the concept of conversions, literally converted into poetry. Unique, clever!!
ReplyDeleteone reading of storialist = delicious
ReplyDeletethea.
xx