Published on Academy of American Poets (https://poets.org)


Riding

I am better when I am dead
or when I am
dreaming.

Having finally entered
the carboned pistons
of your machinery.

You, as a boy,
racing through
the warm excess
of night’s soft decline.

When I rise
I kerosene 
my fingers

place my hands flat
on its weeping
branches.

The music is smashed
Wurlitzer, trashed and drug
up from a landfill
in Tazewell.

Earth mixed with quell
and the bright peal
of a mangled glockenspiel.

In the winter hills
of summer, a sick
foal in the barn,

and an old farmhouse
with all its clocks
pulled out.

Its cold room
filling miraculously
with the slow sediment
of forget.

Credit


Copyright © 2019 by Cynthia Cruz. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on July 29, 2019, by the Academy of American Poets.

About this Poem


“The poem, ‘Riding,’ is from the manuscript I am currently completing. It occurred to me that my work had veered away from my origins: the place where I come from, the objects and landscape of that place (working class, rural), and all that make me who I am. In this manuscript, currently titled Back to the Woods, I am returning to that place, whether that be a real or imagined rendition of it. In this way, the poems in this collection, Riding included, are a return, in a sense, to my first two collections, Ruin and The Glimmering Room, but a return after many years. A return to my origins but a return with the vast sorrow of having turned my back on my origins. At the same time, this return back is a kind of triumphant homecoming.”
Cynthia Cruz

Author


Cynthia Cruz

Cynthia Cruz is the author of How the End Begins (Four Way Books, 2016) and Wunderkammer (Four Way Books, 2014).

Date Published: 2019-07-29

Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/riding-0