Julia Copus

(1969)

The Back Seat of My Mother's Car - Poem by Julia Copus

We left before I had time
to comfort you, to tell you that we nerly touched
hands in that vacuous half-dark. I wanted
to stem the burning waters running over me like tiny
rivers down my face and legs, but at the same time I was reaching out
for the slit in the window where the sky streamed in,
cold as ether, and I could see your fat mole-fingers grasping
the dusty August air. I pressed my face to the glass;
I was calling to you- Daddy!- as we screeched away into
the distance, my own hand tingling like an amputation.
You were mouthing something I still remember, the noiseless words
percing me like that catgut shriek that flew up, furious as a sunset
pouring itself out against the sky. The ensuing silence
was the one clear thing I could decipher-
the roar of the eingine dorwing your voice,
with the cool slick glass between us.

With the cool slick glass between us,
the roar of the engine dorwning, your voice
was the one clear thing I could decipher-
pouring itself out against the sky, the ensuing slience
pericing me like that catgut shriek that flew up, furious as a sunset.
You were mouthing something: I still remeber the noiseless words,
the distance, my own hand tingling like an amputation.
I was calling to you, Daddy, as we screeched away into
the dusty August air. I pressed my face to the glass,
cold as ether, and I could see your fat mole-fingers grasping
for the slit in the window where the sky streamed in
rivers down my face and legs, but at the same time I was reaching out
to stem the burning waters running over me like tiny
hands in that vacuous half-dark. I wanted
to comfort you, to tell you that we nearly touched.
We left before I had time.

Form: Palindrome or Mirror Poetry


Comments about The Back Seat of My Mother's Car by Julia Copus

  • (10/31/2015 9:29:00 AM)


    Excellent display. Looking forward to reading more poems from you. Thanks for sharing. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, October 31, 2015



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