Poem of the Week: 12.8.22
"Douglas & Toluca from the Ground Up" by Ricky Novaes de Oliveira
DOUGLAS & TOLUCA FROM THE GROUND UP
after Cary Moore
by Ricky Novaes de Oliveira
Cracking street
Painted curb, red with tire black
Cracking sidewalk
Weeds, stakes
At least three coffee cups
Two skateboarders, ghosts
Budding palms
Fence, sheet metal and convex bars
layered and retaliating
harmless and territorial
“Jesus is my savior not my religion!”
and other graffiti
A photographer, a ghost
Something reflective
Barbed wire
Sign for marionettes
Sign for real estate
Sign for what to watch
Sign for stopping
Security camera
Lamp post painted over,
not as high
in each successive coat
a gradient forms
Signs for turning
Sign for for the way
Overpass
DO NOT PASS
New apartment
or office
or magnet school
windows with the shades drawn,
trees with shade for some,
ghosts:
fence:
graffiti:
barbed wire:
security camera:
Sky
Clouds
Plane, passenger
looking down, where to land
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Thank you for reading the Poem of the Week! To be honest, I didn’t think I would be thiiiis consistent with my newsletter, but your support keeps me going. So thanks!
"Douglas & Toluca from the Ground Up" is an LA poem, a poem of seeing, and a poem in between. Douglas & Toluca Streets intersect next to Downtown LA, where I found myself on a walk one day. It’s a crossroads-microcosm of urban life: a mix of trash, high rises, graffiti, joggers, traffic, soccer players, and a lot else. The multitudes of reality and opacity inherent in street life is just so fascinating for me.
Though sometimes I take a step back. I wonder, does anyone else give a shit about a random street corner? Well, reader, it turns out at least two people give a shit about this particular street corner. In editing this poem, I found Cary Moore, photographer of LA life, had snapped a pic of Toluca & Douglas back in 1991—be a good citizen and view it on the LA Public Library digital collection website, or look at my illegal screenshot right here:
You can see the “fence” I mention in the poem on the left side of the photo; the two skateboarders on the right, though I hope they are prospering, are the “ghosts.” I wrote before seeing this photo, so the final poem is situated on the border between meditation and ekphrasis. There’s probably a deeper meaning in all of this, but I’ll let you figure it out this time.
I’ll leave you with a writing exercise, since the last time I sent one out a lot of y’all seemed to enjoy it! Try what I did with this poem: pick two points and describe everything in between. I did the ground (point 1) & up (point 2) on a street corner; maybe you could try turning your head all the way to the left (point 1) and then write everything you see/hear/feel/taste/touch until you get all the way to the right (point 2). If you end up writing, I’d love to read it. Drop your poem in a comment below!
That’s all for now. Hope you are taking care of yourself; sometimes reading poetry is exactly that, so way to go!
Watch out for cars, Ricky