Provincetown and Other Poems

In Provincetown and Other Poems, Leo Connellan masterfully depicts the New England landscape while capturing the afflicted spirit of those filled “with wonder / and fear that we are being forever left yearning / malcontent.” In his accessible and characteristic style, Connellan empathizes with the impoverished and disparaged, as well as criticizes the roles big industries have in producing adverse circumstances for the region. With its focus on the working class, Provincetown offers a grim and unforgettable look at the place where “Death sings to life . . . where / life style has no code.”
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Provincetown and Other Poems

In Provincetown and Other Poems, Leo Connellan masterfully depicts the New England landscape while capturing the afflicted spirit of those filled “with wonder / and fear that we are being forever left yearning / malcontent.” In his accessible and characteristic style, Connellan empathizes with the impoverished and disparaged, as well as criticizes the roles big industries have in producing adverse circumstances for the region. With its focus on the working class, Provincetown offers a grim and unforgettable look at the place where “Death sings to life . . . where / life style has no code.”
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Provincetown and Other Poems

Provincetown and Other Poems

by Leo Connellan
Provincetown and Other Poems

Provincetown and Other Poems

by Leo Connellan

Paperback(1st ed)

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Overview


In Provincetown and Other Poems, Leo Connellan masterfully depicts the New England landscape while capturing the afflicted spirit of those filled “with wonder / and fear that we are being forever left yearning / malcontent.” In his accessible and characteristic style, Connellan empathizes with the impoverished and disparaged, as well as criticizes the roles big industries have in producing adverse circumstances for the region. With its focus on the working class, Provincetown offers a grim and unforgettable look at the place where “Death sings to life . . . where / life style has no code.”

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781880684290
Publisher: Northwestern University Press
Publication date: 07/01/1995
Edition description: 1st ed
Pages: 77
Product dimensions: 5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.30(d)

About the Author



Leo Connellan published twelve books of poetry including The Clear Blue Lobster-Water Country, Another Poet in New York, Crossing America, and Death in Lobster Land. Winner of the Shelly Memorial Award, he was a Poet-in-Residence for Connecticut State University. He served as Connecticut's Poet Laureate from 1996 until his death in 2001.

Read an Excerpt

Provincetown, and Other Poems


By Leo Connellan

Curbstone Press

Copyright © 1995 Leo Connellan
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-880684-29-0



CHAPTER 1

    NO, THE RIVER NEVER FRIGHTENED ME

    On the other side of the river
    all we anticipate here and are not there
    to find it is not there either to have
    or we are not good enough here or there.
    There here where we are is the other side,
    two visible sides of a river each
    invisible. Blue ice is breaking up.
    Ice cubes of sky shined on by bright sun.
    Then a frown of dark cloud. Suddenly
    the river looks like it has a crack in it,
    gurgling blue water rattle.
    In Spring the wind over this water
    is roses of perfume and young excitement.
    The river is to splash in, laugh in and what
    lies on the other side of the river doesn't
    concern us because whatever danger is subtle,
    even invisible. Even drowning seems
    an accident, not intent. Throughout
    Summer and Fall there is warmth and color
    and we are alive in ourselves. Then
    dark silver spreads frozen and
    we can run and walk on top of water, still,
    never do we get off on the shore on the
    other side of the river nor does
    anyone from over there come among us
    until ice cracks fill us with wonder
    and fear that we are being forever left yearning
    malcontent, fearing and cowardice unfulfilled.
    I am here from over there, here perhaps alone
    until I hear from you. I was excited to go
    skating and over splitup and crackup. No, the
    river never frightened me. I am in search of a poem.


    MOTEL

    I
    We came in off the Parkway past two
    union pickets silent in their shivering behind
    signs since Reagan and The Air Transporters.

    This is a new one from the most famous luxury chain,
    just opened, with a special cheap rate to fill
    rooms and give staff practice ... that

    succeeds because the help's picked from immigrants.
    Cocktail waitress forced to wear outfit that
    makes her look stripped, fired if they catch

    her chewing or her mouth looking like it's got
    anything in it but her tongue. Athletic teams,
    Corporations hoping that false front if not their

    products gets business will fill this place,
    depression outside or not. Starving human
    beings within a mile or not.

    Poverty is within walking distance of this place
    up little oil dirty snow side streets here. Hunger
    shows in the punctured tattered half drawn

    window shades and in the cold pipes without heat.
    Murder just to eat and for something warm, a scarf to
    clutch around your adam's apple and try not to

    think of the numbness of the rest of your body
    lonely so cold, to control rage at being so cold
    and unfilled while just across the street

    this new motel has human beings who can
    spend and do not even pause once in
    mid-swallowing of good Grand Marnier

    cutting the insides of their throats like
    smooth honey, as some just across the
    street consider cutting the outside of

    their throats with steel; not once
    in this opulence does a guest shudder
    thinking of poor men who cannot fill

    those they love or themselves with any
    good things and even consider let alone
    do anything about it ... There is a

    toughness in the breezes. All around this place
    is the quiet of hard struggle and to
    walk here is not safe. ... If they think

    you might be some big money from the motel
    you have asked a starving man for your life
    and he'll take it for his life.


    II

    Here I was in a luxurious room with room service
    and a balcony, but the maids in the hall when
    I passed them saw penury in the set of my mouth fixed

    forever in fatigue and endurance's look and
    on their hands and knees scrubbing carpets
    and the halls of the motel hallways, if they wanted

    their jobs, one or two of these lovely ladies smiled
    at me enjoying that one of them had somehow managed
    to be a guest, and if I had wanted to imagine

    that I could get away with being anyone but
    who I am, a sweeper like them, their knowing
    smiles as I passed them told me I fooled no one.

    I was like an elderly trick passing Queens thinking
    that growing old ever hides your soul, that
    you're "everybody's make" ... no it wasn't sly suggestion

    their smiles and looks knowing me, no, it wasn't that
    their postures on their hands and knees forcing
    their bottoms to elevate as if they'd do anything in

    my mind for a twenty dollar bill, no there was no
    offer, even if growing old I yearned for there
    to be one more offer ... just one more! Once more

    heads turned cruising me — no matter my fantasy
    wishes, there was nothing more in that hallway
    than my dirty images and just one or two

    worn out human beings knowing
    another when they
    saw one ...


    III

    I was so common and familiar
    in my conversations with desk clerks
    that when the elevator was tied up

    by maids moving their carts
    from floor to floor, they had
    no problem suggesting

    I use the Service elevator which meant walking
    through their kitchen passing garbage and through
    their laundry room to ride with the Room Service

    waiter who knocked on my room door with reverence, now
    a knit brow disturbed frown as he really saw me now
    next to him riding up in his shit, and though

    he was young and couldn't put it together, he too
    sensed I was more an older him than a guest here
    yet he knew in seconds as the Service elevator

    got me to my floor, he would have to resume
    catering to me. I'll always wonder if he suddenly grew up
    in that realization ...


    IV

    The desk clerks knew only too well
    I was in their motel on an ingenious low rate
    plan ... you dial 800 information and ask

    for the package number ... owing everyone but
    life gets so pressed you blank your conscience
    temporarily of the people you telephoned

    in horror about the wage garnishee and phone turnoff
    if they didn't rush you money ... but if
    you don't do this you won't live to pay them back, worse,

    you won't be alive to be the person they sent cash.
    Man has to escape out of his cages for
    new breath ... I. ... just. ... did it!

    There isn't any excuse to do what you wish when you owe!
    But I did it to survive and not use or drink
    or have a coronary for principle.

    Should this make me disreputable, dishonorable,
    at least I can be told this personally
    and not through the grass of my tomb. ...

    ... and up in the hallways thickly carpeted like
    bath towels the maids on their hands and knees were
    washing carpets and the walls vulnerable

    to my stare at their bottoms raised in air
    strung out here along the hallway like so much
    breathing meat bereft of their dignity as

    they put out their flesh for food and roof. We motel guests
    gorged and drank as if poverty were not
    close death whispering dying along

    the bedposts of luxury. Evil dressed its best.
    Poverty had started to harden us beyond
    the ability to ever enjoy again, but at

    this motel that succeeds because the help's picked
    from immigrants, I saw a chinese or vietnamese woman
    maid all expression of joy erased from her naturally

    stoic disposition, blank, only her mouth
    without even her lips moving let words, like
    hollow echoes from a pebbled well, out if

    spoken to; she was desperate lest one
    of her answers lose her this work. ... This
    small vietnamese or chinese woman she

    seemed to appear out of the walls, probably a
    service elevator as I would come and go in
    and out of our room ... pushing a heavy long

    cart with everything on it to make rooms up
    just about all this little tiny woman could push
    by people like me there for comfort and pleasure

    from our new depression given us for our faith and
    vote by our President for being the fools we
    always are always allowing the lie that it's

    the Welfare Indigent not the wealthy who are
    responsible for our loss of jobs, pensions
    medical help ... soon the years you can

    still climb three flights of stairs on two sides
    of twenty one buildings if you have to and
    sweep one all the way down and climb up the next

    or do anything but sit in the corner
    of some Reagan club soup kitchen shelter
    will be gone ... of course

    I'm to blame
    but dying isn't easier because
    you deserve it. ...


    TOMORROW

    Tomorrow is like yesterday
    resented, resisted. Now
    frightened of time when
    everything could be done

    for us, we fear imagination
    so why are you surprised
    you cannot cope with imagining
    the old Hormel, Armour Ham

    plants becoming refleshing
    plants, you'd have to go
    before age 35 or you'd be
    too old, the skin of your

    skeleton too set to de-skin,
    then you refleshed with new
    kidneys, liver, heart so
    you'll always look young.

    Man and computer cure paraplegia,
    now they can part whole spine
    from body long enough to bypass
    nerve connection ... cars become

    heli-cars, combination car and
    helicopter. Parking now off the
    ground within your hovering
    space inches above each other and

    get down on the ground and back up
    into your heli-car by pliable
    pogo spring ladder. Now
    you get ceiling as well as

    wall to wall tv all going
    at once, watch with a twitch
    turn of your neck side to
    side and up and down and

    so as not to get afflicted
    with "twitch turn neck" a
    prevalent disease, especially
    back at the beginning when

    all the marvels became available,
    you skim look quick left and right
    up, down or straight ahead or
    settle on one tv show to watch like

    they did in the old days. Laser
    surgery means nobody's body ever
    gets cut. Everything gets done
    for us, we get bored ... but

    there's a new game around, everybody's
    doing it, it's called reading, thinking and
    I tell you when you start your eyes
    water, come together, almost cross, your

    head aches trying to do this what they
    call concentrate and you find out
    that with all the wonderful everything
    man ever dreamed for you've now got, you

    don't have yourself, you've lost yourself,
    can't think, reason, read, agree
    disagree, there is no hopeless
    struggle you have to surmount, so

    what good is being renewed, reskinned,
    living a couple of thousand years!
    The sky's up there, we've always
    been able to see it and we

    cut a way through its heat shield
    out into weightless whatever ... but
    we have to use ourselves here
    and out of gravity.


    LETS FALL IN LOVE

    My mother was an abortion.
    No, I mean it, an unborn fetus
    eggs planted in a hippopotamus
    so if I seem an animal
    there's this good reason
    but I'm empty from not knowing
    my real mom who was never here
    so I could be anti social or distant
    or in so much need I'm overwhelming.
    Should I love my birth mom or mom mom?


    STOCKBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS

    Outside Red Lion Inn room 240
    snow flakes touch Norman Rockwell canvas
    Stockbridge, Massachusetts, loose in air like
    specks of frosting on this cake town saved
    from looking like a Saturday Evening Post cover
    by flesh, breathing people, real life, not neat
    scenes with no problems ... I locked my car
    and couldn't get back in and a Policeman kind,
    gracious but tired, weighed by what lies under
    tinsel, used a tool that looked like a thin saw
    with hooks to catch the inside lock down a
    window without breaking the door so I couldn't
    open or close it, and I could move again.
    Hawthorne, Bryant, LongFellow, this Inn you stayed in
    doesn't exist. The carpeted rooms creak and their
    carpets and fixtures suggest and hint trails you
    traveled, some no wider than a path between
    communities suddenly cleared and lived in among
    forest, roads, dirt, no wider than for a stage
    coach to travel, enough for human feet and horses
    and wheels, are now wider roads paved for our
    transportation; beautiful in the Berkshires where
    ice sparkles on tree branches when light rain freezes
    and what is vanished is visible but the light of candles
    flickering imagination is now electricity and no one
    knows what a Thunder Mug is, you pull a chain and
    refuse is gone, in a bathroom not out back or down a
    hall or left for someone else to have to carry swishing
    to dump, become immune to vomiting. The old Inn
    you knew has been added onto once moving about was
    solved but age only hides the youthful face which
    if you look you can see for yourself without need of photos.
    Once human beings in these rooms dreamed of perfecting, a
    day when somehow buildings would be built so tight, solid
    against weather as to erase noise. Now in our hustle
    and clatter we pay for creaks when we walk across rooms
    off balance as if creaking unites us with those whose
    breath breathed in these rooms which now heave from
    hanging on, shifted in this ancient building by rage
    of wind and storm but have television now; Room Service
    and the old Inn has an elevator, however the beds and food
    are good and if you were here today you'd gladly stay over.


(Continues...)

Excerpted from Provincetown, and Other Poems by Leo Connellan. Copyright © 1995 Leo Connellan. Excerpted by permission of Curbstone Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Contents

No, The River Never Frightened Me,
Motel,
Tomorrow,
Let's Fall In Love,
Stockbridge, Massachusetts,
York Maine,
The Treachery Of Flame,
An Image From Howard Coughlin,
Sloughter Poet,
Children Of Your Horror Existence, Manhattan,
Hunger,
Hot Day In New York,
The $100 Street Person,
Home Again,
Jazz,
Shooter,
Squirrel Shoot,
Winter,
Pulling Oar,
The Shadow Of A Leaf,
Gone Walking,
Tree Shades,
The Frog Jump At Lisbon Central School,
Smoke To Cochise,
Life,
The Other Man On The Cross,
Alternative,
Before Fiberglass,
Poem Written In Thomas Gray's Country Churchyard,
Oscar Wilde Lament,
Maine,
Lobster Fisherman,
The Sun,
Fish,
Wet Fourth of July Fire Cracker,
Song For Dylan Thomas,
Provincetown,

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