For A Thirteenth Birthday

You have read War and Peace.
Now here is Sister Carrie,
not up to Tolstoy; still
it will second the real world:
predictable planes and levels,
pavement that holds you,
stairs that lift you,
ice that trips you,
nights that begin after sunset,
four lunar phases,
a finite house.

I give you Dreiser
although (or because)
I am no longer sure.
Lately I have been walking into glass doors.
Through the car windows, curbs disappear.
On the highway, wrong turnoffs become irresistible,
someone else is controlling the wheel.
Sleepless nights pile up like a police record;
all my friends are getting divorced.
Language, my old comrade, deserts me;
words are misused or forgotten,
consonants fight each other
between my upper and lower teeth.
I write "fiend" for "friend"
and "word" for "world",
remember comes out with an "m" missing.

I used to be able to find my way in the dark,
sure of the furniture,
but the town I lived in for years
has pulled up its streets in my absence,
disguised its buildings behind my back.
My neighbor at dinner glances
at his cuffs, his palms;
he has memorized certain phrases,
but does not speak my language.
Suddenly I am aware
no one at the table does.

And so I give you Dreiser,
his measure of certainty:
a table that's oak all the way through,
real and fragrant flowers,
skirts from sheep and silkworms,
no unknown fibers;
a language as plain as money,
a workable means of exchange;
a world whose very meanness is solid,
mud into mortar, and you are sure
of what will injure you.

I give you names like nails,
walls that withstand your pounding,
doors that are hard to open,
but once they are open, admit you
into rooms that breathe pure sun.
I give you trees that lose their leaves,
as you knew they would,
and then come green again.
I give you
fruit preceded by flowers,
Venus supreme in the sky,
the miracle of always
landing on your feet,
even though the earth
rotates on its axis.

Start out with that, at least.

by Lisel Mueller

Comments (5)

After Sunset! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
CONGRATULATIONS on your Poem Of The DAY, Mrs. Mueller. I cannot write as many words or as long as I wished, so that´s why I have the response in a couple of times. AD. Saturday the 9th December 2017 at 1.10 Hrs AM. West-European Time. We are a couple of hours ahead.in the USA it is now still yesterday
LAST PART: continued Congratulations with your poem of The Day, Mrs.Mueller. With the very best wishes, sincerely Sylvia Frances Chan. A TEN for your very precious words in this Poem of The Day.
I have enjoyed this Poem of the Day, magnificently worded as a lady of your age, full of wisdom and the correct words, it is very interesting, full of humor, just under the skin, never skindeep, no on the contrary, I do hope that I have this deep style full of metaphors. War and Peace is a fascinating book by L.Tolstoy. Thank you for sharing this worthy poem with tints of irony. I like it very much.
A nicely written and interesting poem.