Like Schrödinger’s Cat
he both was and wasn’t
dead, when we walked by,
children in tow, and he curled up,
blocked the sidewalk, either passed out
drunk from too much the night
before, or maybe just gone,
slipped away in plain sight,
while the tourists, all of us,
came and went, looked away,
intent on beignets and chicory coffee,
powdered sugar mounded on our plates.
He was still on the ground
when we returned from the Café du Monde,
vampires gone to bed, saxophones resting
in their velvet cases. He lay undisturbed
in the same position, not dead we thought,
though we didn’t check for breath,
but a composition, a still life, or not.
We skirted him, discussed the day to come,
decided he’d had too much,
shook our heads, walked on
to catch the trolley, preferred to think
he was still in the box, on this side
of life, for the children’s sake
we kept our pace, we didn’t slow,
just another man we‘d never know.
*
Betsy Mars is a prize-winning poet, photographer, and assistant editor at Gyroscope Review. Her poetry has been published in numerous journals and anthologies. Recent poems can be found in Minyan, MacQueen’s Quinterly, Sheila-Na-Gig, and Autumn Sky Poetry Daily. Her photos have appeared online and in print, including one which served as the Rattle Ekphrastic Challenge prompt in 2019. She has two books, Alinea, and her most recent, co-written with Alan Walowitz, In the Muddle of the Night. In addition, she also frequently collaborates with San Diego artist Judith Christensen, most recently on an installation entitled “Mapping Our Future Selves.”
From The Archives: Published on This Day
- Two Poems by Christiana Doucette (2024)
- Two Poems by Tere Sievers (2024)
- Three Poems by Tara A. Elliott (2023)
- Four Poems by Sarah Carey (2022)
Wonderful poem ❤️
Thank you, Donna <3
Your poem helps us see, wonder, and care. Thank you.
Thank you for being such a caring person and for your kind words about this poem.
Very timely for your U.S. readers. Give a shift, for the children’s sake!
Yes…unfortunately we have lost a lot of our compassion, it seems, and the values upon which this country was founded. Thank you for reading, Liz.
Wow! Says so much in an understated way.
Thank you, Lori. I really appreciate that – it is a hard line to walk. It started out as a confessional poem, but drifted into the universal, and I am glad the message came through without being too “message-y.”
Love this poem, the movements and the uneasiness
That touches me – thank you. I think “uneasiness” is such a fitting word for this poem’s “ambition.”
This is so moving, so perfect for publication on Thanksgiving.
Grateful for poetry, for One Art, for the humanity I find here.
Bonnie, thank you so much for the model of humanity you always show me. I also am grateful for poetry, poets, and One Art in particular. It/you all save me every day.