This month’s prompt was to write an ekphrastic poem — a poem based on an image or a piece of art.
I chose to write from an image Tricia offered up, from an exhibit at the Montclair Art Museum called Transformed. Perfect for our year of transformation! Anyway, this particular piece, called Urban Flora, is by Denice Bizot and is the metal from a hood of a truck, transformed!
Somehow, Bizot’s work — and the story behind the work — suggested to me a “this is the house that Jack built”-type of poem, so that’s what I’ve got to offer. I imagine Lucinda Williams playing on the radio….
OXIDIZE/oxidize/verb
Liz Garton Scanlon
This is the road (the red, red road) that Dad drove
This is the truck on the red, red road that Dad drove
This is the truck that lurched and went clunk
And this is the hood of that clunky truck
the hood that Dad popped
on the side of the road
the red, red road
that Dad kicked
with his boot
as he spit
and he swore
on the life of that truck
Oh, this is the road
(the red, red road)
that Dad drove
To read more, visit:
Laura
Tanita
Tricia
Mary Lee
Sara
And you can find the Poetry Friday round-up at Tabatha’s The Opposite of Indifference.
As for next month, we’re writing etherees. This ten-line form begins with a single syllable, and each line expands by one syllable until the tenth line has ten. We’re continuing with our 2023 theme of transformation, but how you interpret that topically is up to you. You have a month to craft your creation and share it on March 31st (hosted by Mary Lee at A(nother) Year of Reading) in a post and/or on social media with the tag #PoetryPals. Join us!
I’m laughing out loud! This is SO. Much. Fun!!! I especially love “clunky truck” (great sounds, fun to read aloud!) and
“as he spit
and he swore
on the life of that truck” (what a perfect visual!!!)
Honestly, I sort of don’t know what came over me. It is NOT my typical poem! But it’s what came out, so who am I to argue!
Altogether fascinating — the imagined life of the truck hood before, and then its afterlife as art!
Oh, I love this–a whole story and setting in one little heart-filled joyous poem!
Wonderful! But I also sense that there’s more!
The rhythm and the rhyme and the wordplay and the imagery here—just perfect. So is the clear sense of story, on that red red road. (And YES to Lucinda on the radio!)
Heh. Poor Dad. That darned truck has gotten his back up for the LAST time.
I LOVE the idea of this poem as narration of the truck’s life before it became a different kind of performance art. Its first performance, on the red, red road with Dad was hilarious! We have all had that clunker truck…
I never imagined the hood would inspire this, but I love it. What fun! I love the story you’ve told. While my dad wouldn’t have kicked the tire, he would have sworn a blue streak at it on that red, red road.
I *know* that truck! Great poem and so fun to read aloud. Look forward to meeting you at the Charlotte Huck next week.
Your poem reminded me of the small town I used to live as a child and the dusty roads there. I feel like I’ve seen and heard this truck.
It isn’t easy for some when their truck breaks down. It’s a pure view of the feelings, Liz, funny and leaves me with sympathy though smiling with “that Dad kicked/with his boot”. It’s so clever!
Fabulous! I wish you could see me giggle. Bravo!
Liz, this story poem asks me to read it again and again. It takes me back to Walton Mountain in the tv series and those country roads. Dad is a hoot!
I live this! So much fun on that red, red road
Liz, wonderful! I love the “red, red road” and Dad, who is so easy to get to know in your poem!
Like Margaret’s mystery… your story could go in so many directions! I love the structure that you chose.
I love the shift in tone when the truck “lurched and went clunk.” The sounds and the story fit together so well with the repetitive form of your poem. I laughed because I recognized my dad.
This is completely delightful! 😀
Oh poor dad, but hey, a funny, funny poem–great read aloud. Kinda also reminds me of Chicken Licken and “the sky is falling…”