[Max Goodman]

THE EMPTY PLAYGROUND

One morning as you drop them off at school
the sun will brighten just a little. All
appears unchanged. Horns toot. Some schoolbooks fall.
Kids dash from parents. Hardly worth forgetting.

When you return for them, the sun is setting.
The tumult of the morning has all gone.
A toppled trash can’s resting on the lawn.
The empty flag clasp clanks against its pole.



*
L1: "when" changed to "as" and comma removed

*

THE EMPTY SCHOOLYARD

The empty flag clasp clanks against its pole,
[.............................]all else sullenly silent.
One window has been boarded,
the plywood marred with knots and aimless cracks.
This was his children’s school. The memory trembles.
How long since he’s been here he doesn’t know.

The schoolyard stands as barren as the school,
[.............................]the wall-ball wall aslant.
A jacket floats discarded
across cracked blacktop’s hopscotch crucifixes.
A trash can that the wind has toppled rumbles
as one swing’s rusty chain creaks to and fro.

*

THE EMPTY SCHOOLYARD

The barren flag clasp clanked against its pole,
[.............................]all else obscenely still,
and every door was locked!
[.....]I’d left work late and scrambled
to get the kids from school. Where were they hiding?
They must be playing round the back. But no,

the schoolyard was as vacant as the school,
[.............................]the peeling wall-ball wall
graffiti’d, blacktop cracked.
[.....]A wind-toppled trash can rumbled
across scuffed hopscotch crucifixes, fading,
and one swing’s rusty chain creaked to and fro.

[Alessio Boni]

Good!

The shift from the first stanza's indication of a non abandoned school to that of an abandoned one is very smooth, and almost subtle...Almost as subtle as if the reader himself were to feel the dementia (I don't know what else to call it) of the narrator upon realizing the academic space as no longer what it was.

The ultimate realization of the narrator (I think) also stands to prove my idealization of this poem in the scheme of someone rushing out from wherever they may reside (a nursing home or hospital) to feel the stress of a missed - frenzied responsibility they haven't had any more in a while. (That of picking up the kids) Only to realize they are so out of touch with the real, indicating not only the possibility of this being a dementia themed poem, but also of the character itself having had general ventures towards that area throughout their life; now no longer discernible, as are his memories.

Of course, this is just my interpretation, or rather, 'addition to the lore of what this poem could be.' This also stands to show the mastery of this poem in invoking such mental crafts.

The composition is also interesting, with the alternating shift of the Iambic pentameter and tri meter making the poem quite violent in tone, and giving it a 'jagged' ethos.

[Chelsea McClellan]

Hi Max,

This is a lovely, sonically pleasing description. But I was left wondering, (respectfully) why should I care? why should I care about this particular abandoned school? and why is it empty? And why and how is the speaker painfully unaware where his children are? Or why/how do the children disappear between presumably being dropped off for school in the morning, and by pick-up time?

With at least a few more questions answered, I think it could be an interesting poem.

Editing to add: I think Alessio's interpretation is an interesting one. I would submit, though, that your readers shouldn't have to guess QUITE as much as we do. Which is a problem that can frequently be remedied with an insightful title. That could be an option here.


Take care,
Chelsea

[Max Goodman]

Thank you, Alessio and Chelsea! Your responses helped me see how poorly that draft was communicating. I hope critters who have read that draft can unlearn anything they got from it and look at the new version fresh. Many thanks.

[Alessio Boni]

Hi,

I'm confused, you don't like the draft because it gives too much leeway to personal interpretation instead of what you intended to give out per its narration?

If that is the case I'd have to disagree, I really think that draft evoked powerful imagery and inspiration, but if that wasn't your scope I could see as to why you would debase it a bit.

Anyway, on the new version, I can see how my interpretation is completely derailed of the subject your poem considers, that of revisiting an old place but of course being aware of what it was, and how it is, and thus, touching on the subject of delicate memories instead of mental deterioration (dementia). It is more precise in its significations in the new version, and gives little space to the fantasies one can come up with towards the reason of verse, so in my opinion I appreciate the first draft, but you're the poet so its on you!

Nevertheless, I think both are good, and the previous draft could be kept as a 'fancy booster' if I explain myself well.

Cheers.

[Hilary Biehl]

I actually like both versions. With the original, I didn't think of dementia (although I can see why Alessio did), rather that the N is remembering the days when he picked up his children from that school. I think the first version has a sense of spontaneity about it that is more compelling, in some ways, than the revision.

If you decide to stick with the revision though, I would find a way to bring "hopscotch" back in. I read the revision first and was wracking my brain trying to think what the blacktop's crucifixes could be - I thought maybe some weird structure I wasn't familiar with - and reading the first version immediately clarified that for me.

[Max Goodman]

Thank you for your further thoughts, Alessio.

And thank you, Hilary. I like the spontaneity of that earlier draft, too, and it's good to know it can land that way for you. Of course, there's no knowing that you would have understood it as clearly without the simpler later draft to prime you, and the simpler version is growing on me, too. I look forward to others' reactions and thoughts.

I didn't realize I'd revised "hopscotch" out until I saw your note. I've so discombobulated myself over several revisions, including one with an additional middle stanza, that I somehow lost track of that foot. (Seeing your note, I thought I must have made a simple typo and omitted the word, but, no, I filled the foot otherwise without realizing what was missing.) I've restored "hopscotch." Thank you.

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Max—

I like both drafts, too. I think the narrator’s confusion at the end of S1 in the first version adds an interesting layer to the piece and suggests an answer to Chelsea’s “So what?” The second version seems to be about the nostalgia of an empty-nester for the days when his children were little.

One nit: A “crucifix,” properly, is a cross with the body of Jesus (the “corpus”) on it. The hopscotches on the playground might more accurately be called “Latin crosses,” (which is metrically equivalent to “crucifixes.”)

Well done!

Glenn

[Yves S L]

Hello Max,

So how much does the poem do more than the following skeleton:

THE EMPTY SCHOOLYARD

This was his children’s school. The memory trembles.
How long since he’s been here he doesn’t know.

I myself am not sure. Poetry cannot simply be what happens when folk are not willing to write a "complete" scene.

Why now? Why is the narrator at the scene of his children's old school now? What is the plausible reason for him visiting the grounds so much later after his children went to the school that he finds the change in scene emotionally significant?

If this is poetry as the emotional concentration/distillation of the moment, then it seems the reason for the emotional importance is somewhat not included and what fills the gap is more and more skilfully rendered description.

It seems to be that the poem is making some comment on the concept of change, perhaps modifying with additional concepts of "aging" and "the cycle of life" but the comment is a vague pointing in a certain direction.

Yeah!

[Max Goodman]

Thank you, Glenn, for sharing how each version is landing for you, and for the "nit," which is probably more than a nit for a lot of readers--definitely something for me to deal with. Thanks for bringing it to my attention.

Yves,

Thank you for pointing out what's not working for you. Your comments may have pointed me toward an important piece that the poem isn't communicating, something I don't yet know how to include, and which I don't want to name explicitly because I want to see whether later versions communicate it without my having communicated it in these comments.

Originally Posted by Yves S L

Poetry cannot simply be what happens when folk are not willing to write a "complete" scene.

Calling me lazy is a lot less helpful and makes it hard for me to feel grateful for your help.