jeans, faded.
tattered knees.
a sweater, snagged,

a glob
of mustard
slowly slips

lands on
the equator.

Linking to OLN…but responding to Mary Kling’s Poetics prompt where I turned attention to the imagist poetry of William Carlos Williams. I am having horrific Internet problems right now, but will try my best to visit as many of you as I can on Saturday. Thanks for understanding.


16 thoughts on “poverty

  1. I love the image and how the drop of gold surprises us by landing on the equator


  2. Bryan Ens says:

    Wonderful. Love the ending.


  3. Mary says:

    This made me smile. That ending was definitely a surprise! I really like the fact that you can write in such a diversity of styles. I am not really sure what ‘imagist’ poetry is, but I look forward to finding out. Smiles. I guess I will have to research a bit about William Carlos Williams.


  4. Yes .. really felt the “imagist” feel. I think of my poetry as imagist. I was hugely influenced by Amy Lowell, Carlos Williams, and Wallace Stevens early on. It’s still the place I feel most at home. Your poem goes further..saying so much in the end..with implications including climate change. Excellent work.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Kate Mia says:

    And yeah..
    i read it like
    Shawna did too..
    but.. i have an
    ‘active’ now
    like hers too
    and sure
    a dog
    iN mustard
    now and then too..;)

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Kate Mia says:

    SMiLes.. no one FEELS
    balance like the equator
    of us.. caring more
    for the
    and hell
    with the
    all that’s real
    is the mustard
    for those
    of us who
    cut iT
    EQual pARt..:)

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Bodhirose says:

    When your clothing is ripped and stained you don’t mind if another stain joins the others. The ending gave me pause… So sorry for your internet troubles, Victoria, and grateful for your participation as always.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. MarinaSofia says:

    I too see a young, don’t care guy in this, who knows his youth and beauty shine through in spite of the slob he is and his tattered appearance. But that title makes me think there is genuine compassion there…

    Liked by 1 person

  9. What a description.. You had me see him in his misery. The glob of mustard adding a sad movement to a still life.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Shawna says:

    Ahhh, I love this!!!

    I really like the way the title feeds into the first line, creating such a thing as “poverty jeans, faded,” as if it’s the “in thing” at the moment.

    Since I know WCW, and I know he likes to sneak in little sexy bits, I read the ending like this:

    a glob(e)
    of must(h)ard/heard
    slowly s/lips [name starts with an “S,” kissing]
    down. [a pillow … or just lips slipping downward, you know]

    land/s on [land, son]
    the (h)equator. [middle of his body]

    Soooo, I think he’s young and hip, in that “I don’t give a crap” way, and he really doesn’t have to do much to get physical attention from the ladies … even his messy mustard-dripping gets him girls. 😛 But that’s not at all what you’re talking about; it’s just what I see.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Shawna, I love your interpretation and that’s one of the delights of poetry–how it allows each reader room to play with the words. I tried to click on the link to go back to your blog but, for whatever reason, it takes me to my e-mail inbox. This has happened with one other blogger. Totally weird.


  11. Grace says:

    I love the understated style of WCW and your response Victoria ~

    Hope you are well ~


  12. whimsygizmo says:

    YES. I love WCW, and I love this mustard-sliding global slice of time.

    Liked by 1 person

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