December 2017
Kate Sontag
sontagk@ripon.edu
sontagk@ripon.edu
After retiring from 22 years at Ripon College, I have moved to the Berkshires with my husband and two spaniels. While I miss my students, colleagues, prairie walks, and skies filled with sandhill cranes, I am nourished by the beauty of the mountains every time I walk up the road or take a drive. Co-editor (with David Graham) of After Confession: Poetry as Autobiography (Graywolf), my most recent publications include Cooking With The Muse (Tupelo), SoFloPoJo, One, and Crab Orchard Review.
Reflection: It was the year I took off from college with my dog and headed west to L.A. to become the next Joni Mitchell. I was living with my aspiring screenwriter boyfriend from Atlanta who also had a dog. I wrote the poem when I returned to Boston to complete my undergraduate degree. The poem’s only real claim to fame is that Charles Simic helped me revise it (poor guy, very patient, I think it was one of his first teaching gigs). Another influence was watching television and movie scenes shot over and over again, as well as the dailies afterward when the director and editor decide which version to use.
Scenes from an Apartment in Hollywood (with Dogs)
There will never be
a movie of it
how the blue hour
like a shadowy lover
scaling the palms
settles on our dogs
curled up in the far corner
of the living room
and slowly gives way to black
as our dogs succumb to waiting
for water, food, and the walk
darkness brings home with us
*
Nor will anyone
ever capture on film
how the blue hour enters
through the balcony windows
like a silent screen hero
from across the boulevard
and slowly blackens for stars
where our dogs
curled up in the far corner
give in to the smells
of neighbors cooking dinner
the way hills give way to hills
*
No theater will ever
hold its breath
as the blue hour
hovers over the pool
below and goes black
like a swimmer
at the end of the world
slow as the waiting
for water, bone, and the shuffle
of footsteps across the courtyard
*
Nor CLOSE-UP linger
lovingly on our dogs
from the first blue
beginnings as they shift
and re-shift and give in
to the time it takes us
to drive home
bumper to bumper
each evening on the freeway
*
CUT TO: no footage left
on the cutting room floor
only this blue
fade in/fade out
our dogs like lovers
on location
settling and resettling
darkening and darkening
Scenes from an Apartment in Hollywood (with Dogs)
There will never be
a movie of it
how the blue hour
like a shadowy lover
scaling the palms
settles on our dogs
curled up in the far corner
of the living room
and slowly gives way to black
as our dogs succumb to waiting
for water, food, and the walk
darkness brings home with us
*
Nor will anyone
ever capture on film
how the blue hour enters
through the balcony windows
like a silent screen hero
from across the boulevard
and slowly blackens for stars
where our dogs
curled up in the far corner
give in to the smells
of neighbors cooking dinner
the way hills give way to hills
*
No theater will ever
hold its breath
as the blue hour
hovers over the pool
below and goes black
like a swimmer
at the end of the world
slow as the waiting
for water, bone, and the shuffle
of footsteps across the courtyard
*
Nor CLOSE-UP linger
lovingly on our dogs
from the first blue
beginnings as they shift
and re-shift and give in
to the time it takes us
to drive home
bumper to bumper
each evening on the freeway
*
CUT TO: no footage left
on the cutting room floor
only this blue
fade in/fade out
our dogs like lovers
on location
settling and resettling
darkening and darkening
© 2017 Kate Sontag
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