good poem
An assignment I had for my writing poetry entailed that we read the poem "Poe in Philadelphia" and then write our own poem in which we put a character from mythology (Greek, Roman, or other) into a city we have been to. Then make the character do stuff in that city. Visit places. Etc.
Poe in Philadelphia
by Chris McCreary
"Quod in the New World
with his new toothbrush
designed extra soft"
- Michael Palmer, Q
Poe savors roast duck, licking the fat from his fingers, sipping
a mai tai that floats within in a gigantic plastic dragon. Noting
that his Rolex has stopped once again, Poe asks nearby
conventioneers for the time, rushes to hail a cab before he is
late for his hot stone massage at Toppers Spa.
-
Poe visits Kenneth Cole, pays in travelers checks for a black
leather duster, leaving his moldy old frock coat crumpled on
the dressing room floor. Sales associates draw straws to see
who will have to remove the garment, set it afire in a distant
dumpster.
-
Poe in an Old City record store, debating the merits of snotty
Johnny Rotten vs. ironic Johnny Lydon, ultimately becoming
bored and feigning absorption in a photo of Kylie Minogue.
Poe strolls over to Morimoto, orders the tasting menu, sips
overpriced sake while awaiting fantail sushi, makes awkward
conversation with the trendy young couple to his right.
-
A man and a woman are one. A man and a woman and Poe are
one. Long before dawn Poe rises to rummage for his clothes,
curses that last shot of Cuervo, and creeps away, slipping his
shoes on silently in the hallway. Nevermore, Poe promises,
never again, not ever. And this time, he means it.
-
Poe sits fidgeting on the subway, regards a striking young
woman immersed in a volume of his selected works. Smiling
benignly, Poe finally comprehends the shadow he has cast
with his casks and cats, almost feels a moment of satisfaction.
-
Poe of donuts and tacos, chocolates and cheesesteaks. Poe a
brand man, favoring Marlboro and Coke over generics. Poe
knows the slippery slope, clutching a styrofoam coffee cup
and paper plate of sugar cookies. Poe admits to a higher
power, wonders how far to the nearest bar.
-
Poe eschews the art house in favor of American Pie 2. Bravo,
Poe intones after a fart joke, Bravisimo. Poe is pelted with
Milk Duds, dissolves in his seat, leaving in his place an
empty bucket of popcorn and a tiny origami swan.
-
On Poe goes, past the landmark which seeks to pass itself off
as his old home, past the gun range and the massage parlor,
past the caravan of police vans, and on to Silk City, where he
sits at the counter and devours an enormous portion of
huevos rancheros. Poe, a man of great appetites, demands
seconds after licking his plate clean.
-
Alarmed by Poe's gaze, the young woman exits the subway
three stops before her destination. As she slips through the
closing doors, Poe silently compares her mane of red hair to
the flames of the reborn phoenix.
-
Poe stops in Barnes and Noble for a quick piss, spots a book
entitled Poe Poe Poe Poe Poe Poe Poe. Poe fondles the glossy
cover, the slick images of his own grim visage staring back at him.
Yes, yes, he hisses, yes yes yes yes yes, slyly slipping the volume
inside his coat pocket and slinking toward the door. Tripping
sensors and outsprinting an overweight security guard, Poe
collapses in the park to catch his breath, admires the small
bronze sculpture of a goat, revels in his devilry.
-
Poe scribbles notes with a pencil stub, stuffs them in his pants
pockets, which have holes in them, which allow the notes to
disappear, whole tales crushed underfoot in the gutter, which
is where Poe would like to stop for a nap, which he'll allow
himself to do just this once, which makes perfect sense, Poe
thinks, his face pressing against the cement, the ache in his
chest spreading like a small bird with fluttering wings.
-
Impulsive Poe hits the art museum stairs at a run, humming
"Eye of the Tiger." Half way up, Poe begins to levitate, hesi-
tates only momentarily before truly rising, arms flapping in
awkward flight.
-
Poe at open mike night, chanting and encanting for the indif-
ferent intelligentsia, who sit sipping espressos. Annoyed and
buoyed by a flask of courage, Poe drops his trousers, invites,
nay, implores the assembled ingrates to kiss his ancient ass.
The applause is resounding. Poe turns to bow, pants around
ankles, and hold this pose until the last hipster has finished snapping his fingers.