*

A poem written by yours truly – just before the city started to transform itself – for better and worse.

Somerville: Walking to Union Square 1994

They hold torches for me
Cigarettes in their hands
Barmaids at the foot of every doorway
Along Somerville Ave.

They stand at portals of darkened rooms
The stench of Budweiser and Boilermakers flushed
Out on the street
The call of fugitive hacking coughs
For some unseen corner
As I pass.

They are sentries
Faces caked with makeup
Their pores closed to the air
Unimpressed
Ignoring me
Seductively leaning against the buildings
Challenging me
To come in.

By the Catholic school
A breeze naughtily lifts the plaid skirts of school girls
As they pull them down modestly
During their first season of self-consciousness.

In the distant
The commercial towers of Boston
Rise through the haze
Like a Mecca
Overlooking the sprawl
Of a shanty town.

Though I am drawn to this image
I don’t follow the traffic’s
Frantic swirl
Into the city.

I know its promise is hollow
It has already left me
Dwarfed and nameless

I head home.

— Doug Holder

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To have your work considered for the Lyrical send it to:
Doug Holder, 25 School St.; Somerville, MA 02143
dougholder@post.harvard.edu