[Carl Copeland]

Christmas Haunts

There’s a Christmas-lit street I avoid going down,
where a tot on a trike mutters, “Wrong part of town …”

All the muggers are squirrels, and kidnappers dress
to blend in with the outdoor nativity sets,

while TV screens and fairy lights merrily blink
in the cookie-cut houses of Santa-red brick.

In the window of one, winks a little white tree,
but I won’t peek inside: think of how it would be

to glance up from your plastic-clad sofa, aghast,
at a ghost looking in on that snug Christmas past!

There’s a Christmas-lit street I have never outgrown.
Any detour will do to avoid going home.


Edits
L3: child killers > kidnappers
L5: LCD > Lit TV > while TV
L10: your > that

[James Brancheau]

I like this a lot, Carl. Love the close and "never outgrown" works very well there, playing off the popular Christmas sentiment of never being too old for Christmas and all that jazz. The light tone up until the end makes that last stanza even more effective.

Just a small thing, which may well be because I'm missing something obvious. Child killers seems to really stand out and I'm not exactly sure why it's there. Muggers = squirrels, which I guess I can go with, but then, just flatly, there are child killers. Is there something about that that's connected to the nativity ? I get that it could possibly refer to one's own troubled childhood, but I don't see the snap of that particular moment.

I'm also pretty fond of the line break on "think of how it would be" and the slant rhymes thrown in here and there, especially, again, at the close of the poem. One of my favorites of yours for sure.

[Carl Copeland]

Thanks, James. I’ve softened “child killers” a little to “kidnappers.” There were no child killers on this street (and no muggers, only squirrels), but there were fears of them, especially in the 1970s, when I imagined them hiding behind every tree. I once turned down a ride from my grandparents, who were driving by as I walked home from school. I thought they might be kidnappers wearing grandparent masks.

[Andrew Frisardi]

Nicely done, Carl! It has an interesting mix of dark humor and a dark something underneath that.

I have trouble scanning line 5 for four beats, and wonder if it would read better without "merrily," but other than that I am with it all the way through.

[Carl Copeland]

Thank you, Andrew. My feelings about Christmas are normally brighter than this, but I was sick and alone this year, and that cast a shadow. As for L5, I’m using “LCD” as an anapest, and the meter should be well established by this point, so I thought the rest of the line would fall into place. Why isn’t that working for you?

[Jim Ramsey]

Hi Carl,

This is well done, especially considering the ironies of tone within lilting anapests (please, please say I am right that they are anapests.) Like one of Nemo’s recently it speaks of alienation, disaffection, of seeking something beyond what mainstream existence offers, and yet it also lets us feel the N tugged in two directions (shown so well in the irony of the two opposing lines of the last couplet). There’s the loneliness of the N, of the child ever in us who can never go back, can never go home, never relive the past but almost stalker-like never forgets it (comic images of kidnappers… peeping toms.) Literature has heavily explored related themes, and is so often looking through a window at others’ lives with a yearning to understand what’s inside and yet accept the divide. At first I felt your piece had some contradicting ideas of what it was about, but I’ve decided I like my confusion. A lot of the connotations seem mocking: “Christmas-lit street” “cookie-cut houses”, “Santa-red brick”, “plastic-clad sofa”, and are some of the best phrasings. Yet, there’s an alluring fantasy land there too in the N’s past, with Peter Pan-ish “fairy lights” and a window through which “winks a little white tree.” There are Dickensian epiphanies beckoning, but they seem to have been stymied by the realization that those living snug lives within would be aghast at being scrutinized. I keep wondering at how the poem would read so differently just by changing L10 to ”at a ghost looking in at [his] snug Christmas past!” That’s not a nit, just a bit of conjecture. Line 2 is one I have some doubts about. When the tot on the trike “mutters,” I don’t hear a happy child. I hear one who is aware and cognizant of what is being said. Yet, when the child mutters “Wrong part of town…” I hear a child too young to be giving a true opinion but who must be instead mimicking adults overheard stereotyping the poor. I think a child so young should be shown more innocent. Maybe L2 could read, “where a tot on a trike [mimics/repeats/sing-songs/recites] “Wrong part of town…”

All the best,
Jim

[Carl Copeland]

Thanks, Jim. It’s gratifying when a reader understands so much of what you’re trying to do. Definitely anapest, a meter I like using to undermine sober content.

What you say about how differently the poem would read with “his” instead of “your” in L10 is useful. For me, there’s no difference, because “your past” is supposed to mean “the past that you’re in,” not “the past before your present.” If that’s not coming across, I may indeed need to change the pronoun.

Another concern you raise is the impression that this is a poor neighborhood. It’s a Detroit suburb—lower middle class, but miles away, literally and figuratively, from the rundown parts of the city. It was safe and, in its day, a good place for young, up-and-coming families. I wouldn’t want it to sound too seedy, though I realize I set that up with the tot on a trike. I actually imported him from elsewhere. He really did say, “Wrong neighborhood,” as a friend and I headed down a street in Upper Manhattan—and got mugged. Here he’s just an incongruous warning that a trip down that street, even in thought, may be painful.

[RCL]

Carl,

Thanks for the memories! This sounds a lot like a biographical incident of my childhood when I was hyper-paranoid about everything and everyone, including my parents and Santa Claus. I'm amazed at how fully and cleverly you’ve captured the isolations and fears other readers have noted. Thanks for helping me remember, nay re-experience, childhood! The tension of lightness/gravitas of style and sense serves the poem and the season well.

Cheers,

[Marshall Begel]

I love the first couplet! It's very effective!

Maybe you mean "The squirrels are all muggers"? Unless it's a squirrel-gang territory thing.

Deleting "the" before nativity would help the meter.

Also for meter, try "LCD screens and the fairy lights blink".

It seems contradictory to paint a picture of a dysfunctional neighborhood, insert your happy younger self, then end with avoidance. Is there more to the story?

The end meter could use some help. Maybe, "I'll take any reason to skip going home." Maybe not.

[Carl Copeland]

Thanks, Ralph! To capture a moment of your childhood as well is more than I could have hoped.