
“Indifference” by Jorge Cardenas
commuter runs sing out
their steely speed
clipping through
countryside stretches
that echo their stark
syncopated shrill hum
but these passenger trains
decelerate sharply
all the way down to
a bump and jar pace
when encroaching
old cities and towns
where they often
crawl carefully
mindful of vandals
and vandalized track
en route straight up
the backside of life
unkempt boarded-up precincts
sad shantytowns
nobody sleeps in by choice
hard places
where scavengers
pick apart carcasses
iron or bone
either way
stolen cars
broken dreams
they both have their markets
where pieces of what
were once noble and whole
are reduced to
illicit commodities
wheel rims and hearts
minds and stereo parts
engines and genitals
yanked from their hosts
lost forever
sold or indecently used
by pushers of
powders and pills
by predators
trading in souls
shredding dignity
like so much
valueless
vinyl upholstery
and the passengers
never quite seem
to take notice
eyes occupied
somewhere with
columns of newsprint
with briefcases
notebooks or
lidded in naps
yet once through and out
each bleak zone of despair
as the train regains speed
bump and jar
smoothed away
more than half
the well-barbered and
trendy coiffed heads
turn to look
out the windows
and watch the benign
untroubling scenery
leading them blithely
on to their own daily dreams
I’m fascinated that stolen cars and broken dreams share some similarities–genius.
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it seemed analagous
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You are very clever
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“A clever man commits no minor blunders.”
– Goethe
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This is such a powerful piece. Damn. Reading for the third time and new details and visions appear.. Simply amazing.
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thank you from the bottom of my heart, owl
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Bespeaks a profound truth– something I noted but never wrote about.
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having ridden so many trains, these feelings always stuck with me
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This is fantastic! The subject is also something I’ve spent a great deal of time in my life thinking about: America’s backyard junkyard, always visible from the train.
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we clearly share similar experiences
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Indeed we do.
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So sad – so true. Nicely done.
Blessings ~ Wendy
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thank you, lady – blessings returned in kind
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Reblogged this on Poesy plus Polemics.
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Leaves Betjeman somewhat out in the cold where he belongs.
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must admit I don’t recall what I’ve read from Betjeman – must pick him up again
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Shouldn’t bother. I know people love or hate his work. I fall in the latter category I’m afraid.
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Reblogged this on OUR POETRY CORNER.
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thanks for another reblog, Ron
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We are ashamed to look at the problems we create.
Beautiful poem.
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and with our shame, earn our guilt
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YES.
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I was looking at photos, a few hours ago, of families living in disused train carriages the fathers had once worked on and wondering how can this be. Turn a blind eye sums it up. Amazing the reflections you hold on to, Paul, from your commuting days and the perfection with which you’ve captured the journey and the problem.
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blind eyes are perhaps our most troubling affliction
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“either way
stolen cars
broken dreams
they both have their markets…”
how true…I felt I was riding in the commuter train…you certainly delved into the minds of the riders…on the train…and in life…
Wonderful writing as always!
I think you should be the Poet Laureate of our country…You are such an amazing poet, Paul!
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that’s a comment headed straight for my keepsake box – thanks dearly, jane
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