Hard Hitting Weather

I had a heartfelt impulse but suffered from a lack of praise

There was not quiet and there was not a lyrical image

The room itself became urgent and irritating

People complained about a fascination with derrières

In the neighborhood they played favorites

But all could see the damage

Jokes pertained to corrections and aspects of the previous year

Sometimes the messages were poorly written and political

Sometimes there were poems about moss and thick paint

Celebrities could make a person glow inside

And beat and radiate

I asked disarming questions and was possibly charming

In the aftermath there was fruit, a lemon, perhaps something pink

Conversations with other adults came to resemble frozen juices

Sweet shards, fragrant sludge

The crazy space of the city now live and redundant

Lorca’s “Living Sky” coming into view

That whole foggy era

When children labored and could not smile

Diana Rickard is a poet and sociologist and Associate Professor at Borough of Manhattan Community College, CUNY. Her poems have been in a number of literary journals and her study of true crime documentaries and wrongful conviction is forthcoming with New York University Press.