Where Is It Clean Poem by Evie Shockley

Where Is It Clean

Rating: 3.0

when your mother can rise from her place
on the pew during the early service,

early enough that the sun barely fills the sky
with its weak straw, but row after row

in the auditorium is flush with folks who want
to be home before the football game gets underway

or hate the slower pace the later service takes
but still got to get their god on

before starting a new week: when she can rise
and tip down the aisle, three-inch heels

pointing a warning at hell through the plush
mauve carpet, smile and nod at preacher,

who is sitting on the pulpit's little throne
with his bible beneath his palm, a man thick-chested

and stout-bellied with moral authority, whose face
gleams with crushing benevolent power:

when she can give him a pleasant nod,
and circle around behind the microphone standing

like a thin silver trophy between the heavenly
floral arrangements, give a firm tug

to the hem of her suit jacket, and lean over
the dimpled nob, the ribbons encircling the crown

of her broad-brimmed hat quivering with each
breath, the crisp white paper in her hands

held out at arm's length from her customary squint,
her eyes scooting back and forth,

between this document and the village of worshipers
fanning themselves and waiting on her voice:

when she can stand there and coo, good morning,
praise the lord and introduce her reading

as a poem by my daughter, a quick look
at your beaming father, then take your words

between her lightly pinked lips and raise each one
to the light, before god and these witnesses,

enunciating like she learned to recite from the fourth-
grade primer in her schoolhouse's single room,

sending sound through the vowels
like a bell: when she can do this, can rise and walk,

and smile and read and have the church say amen -
then you can safely declare: it is clean.

Kim Barney 22 June 2015

Your poetry is really good! Why people are voting it so low, I can not understand. Best wishes to you.

3 0 Reply
Anil Kumar Panda 26 January 2017

early enough that the sun barely fills the sky with its weak straw, but row after row... is very nice. your style of telling story is unique. Loved it.

1 0 Reply
Bernard F. Asuncion 26 January 2017

Excellent poem..... Thanks for sharing.....

0 1 Reply
Seamus O Brian 26 January 2017

This is a compelling narrative; the precision of the writing and the cadence produce a suspense that carries the reader along to the luminous final four stanzas. Satisfying and substantial.

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Edward Kofi Louis 26 January 2017

She learned. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.

2 2 Reply
Tom Allport 26 January 2017

a very nice clean poem that tells an interesting story.

2 2 Reply
Lantz Pierre 26 January 2017

I literally looked up the word clean hoping to get an idea of what the driving force behind this poem is. It's a beautifully articulated narrative, very clear in the images and sequencing, the reference to the mother reading a text by the daughter. The pride of family and congregation. I found more meanings and uses for the word clean than I was expecting. Most of them even fit here, more or less. But none of the meanings supplied the key to unlock the reference. Why is this set in church? Is clean meant to be a radiant religious metaphor? Honestly, I can't unlock it. The whole poem remains frozen between the clutches of the title and last line for me. I'm frustrated by an amorphous metaphor that I don't understand, even when the writing throughout is pretty darn clean. Go figure.

4 0 Reply
Evie Shockley

Evie Shockley

Nashville / Tennessee / United States
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