Smashed

POEM: Smashed

Faced today with a growing hurricane season, it seemed appropriate that I start off my blog with a poem about the mother of all hurricanes, the 1900 storm that wiped out Galveston. This is especially so, as I have just been thru a few myself, and a good part of the southeast is dealing with a double dose of overlapping hurricanes visiting within weeks of each other: Helene and Milton.

When I first came to Texas, I had the dubious honor of riding out Alicia, which passed its eye right over my home, like the welcome wagon from hell. It was a get acquitted card for the 1900 Storm which had become, for me, new local history. It came before the naming of storms, and had it been named, it would have been instantly retired. The 1900 storm was the worst disaster in US history, to this day. It began a life long entanglement with storms, both live and in poetry. I gave the storm the name Misery, and titled this project, Misery’s Lick.

The pieces in this project tend to be longer than my average, as there was just so much to absorb. It was a storm so terrible it was not spoken of afterwards. It altered the course of history, destroying Galveston as the Newport of the West, a playground for millionaires, and gave the crown to Houston. The entire island was covered by storm surge so deep, it smashed buildings, wharves and railroad bridges, using the debris to batter the rest. ‘Smashed’ is one of many poems from Misery’s Lick, most of which are very dark, being true to the nature of Misery.

Having just stood toe to toe with Alberto and Beryl, not to mention the recent drecho, this seems like a foreboding, but poignant first offering. Hope you enjoy.

Smashed

 

Everything we could possibly make

Was unmade.

 

Stairs and straight lines

were destroyed.

All things hospitable to man

were rubbed into splinters,

jarred into angles we can’t

live with.

 

Chaos was heaped into a useless order

and tossed over the living and dead alike.

 

The stone walls of churches fell

as though bombed by a distant hatred.

 

In the days before we mastered

a bird’s eye view, the city was raked

into a jungle of rubble, a language

of what was now indecipherable

even to the babbling, to the

converted.

 

The winds had done as much damage

as the waters.

Hundred mile an hour gusts

took the measuring equipment off the roof

before the winds peaked.

 

It lifted house-tops and slung them aside

into random targets of what was

still standing.

 

Home pillars and lamp posts

joined the wharf boards and

pier pilings sluicing through the streets.

 

The dead and doomed were rammed

and bludgeoned by the torn-away weapons

of the rains and winds.

 

The city ground away beneath the flood line

in a lurching, battering slurry.

 

Nothing waded away.

No one swam ashore.

No one would walk on water

that a desperate limb wouldn’t

pull him under.

 

Beneath the raging crests

sunken cemeteries

undersea silent gardens

where crosses made

and unmade themselves.

 

                                         ~~~~~

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