The title is taken from Alistair Hornes A Small Earthquake in Chile: Allendes South America, This in turn was an appropriation of Claud Cockburns headline A Small Earthquake in Chile. Not many dead which was not only judged to be one of the 20th centurys more boring headlines but also showed the Wests supposed indifference to Chilean lives.
My Review
Would you like to review this Poem? Login | Register
Shel, you have such a gift for describing places and making them come blazingly alive. You made me feel as if I was standing there as a spectator taking in the scene you've described so perfectly.
"Their bones and dreams
pounded finer than maize and pulses.
Cattle grounds and slaughterhouses crash
onto cadaverous soil, eclipse the blacked-out earth."
Those last lines just knocked me flat. I'm going to back to this poem and study it. Someday when you've got a book of your works out, I hope you will sign a copy for me. :)
wow..this powerful, sensitive and concise..not short. not simple..but concise..
when you say things like
"fluviovolcanic fields. Their bones and dreams
pounded finer than maize and pulses."--direct--making it almost impossible for the reader NOT to visualize and experience the tragedy on a personal level.
It always amazes me when I watch the news [very rarely] and they mention something about a twelve year old boy in Israel dying cause the government or a terrorist bombed a building he was in..and the news casters are already joking about the snowstorm coming up or Brittany Spears next baby or whatever w/in 30 sec's..and I'm still crying.
Sometimes I almost wish I was brain dead like they tried to make me..key word--almost.
Anyway..great writing, once again, Sel. A pleasure to read, as always, even though the subject matter was tragic.
This is such a powerful write and intelligent write and says so much. I have seen it develop over the years and each time I think you can't make it any stronger you do. Genius my dear.
Shel, you have such a gift for describing places and making them come blazingly alive. You made me feel as if I was standing there as a spectator taking in the scene you've described so perfectly.
"Their bones and dreams
pounded finer than maize and pulses.
Cattle grounds and slaughterhouses crash
onto cadaverous soil, eclipse the blacked-out earth."
Those last lines just knocked me flat. I'm going to back to this poem and study it. Someday when you've got a book of your works out, I hope you will sign a copy for me. :)
Oh sel, this moves me to tears. ... "coats and bags stitched from the cotton fibres of lives hang alone "...Bless you. You are a very good and natural writer with a great future ahead of you. Best wishes, Bethlynne.