The Walls in Apartment 5B
The Walls in Apartment 5B
By Rina Shamilov
(Revised 02/14/22)
Cavity eyes & red dots
Traced the rim of Deduska’s mouth
While Papa’s vowels
howled into the curtains,
Swallowing the sounds
Of that corner apartment
On the fifth floor where I was born,
Where Dedushka later died—
Peeling away with the stretch of
Paint
That hit the walls–
when he fell into his bowl of oats
(on Saturday morning)
His skinny fingers traced
the tips of the morning,
as he passed through its phases
(by the old kitchen window
the spices Mama lined up
bled into my hands
after the rains dried up)
but the yellow
afternoon
burned our memories
with its aftertaste
like the dust-licked veils that
lined my room
(that later covered the mirrors)
Mama’s swollen hands
Beckoned in the distance
Her voice was stolen by
The static TV
& striding along the living room
in a slithering dance
her face morphed
into a clock;
& then the afternoon
Curdled into the evening
(With haunting eyes)
—slipping away its clumpiness
Into ashy desire
(On Saturday evening)
Wow this poem really placed me inside this fifth floor apartment, the imagery and showing in this poem is amazing. I love your stylistic choices as well using punctuation to enhance your writing. The closing stanza wrapped it together so well as it slips into ashy desires, wow!! Without using the word death once we know you lost someone in this poem. Also the end of the second to last stanza is my favorite line. Her faced morphed into a clock is so interesting, like running out of time. I loved this poem, thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteSo you are clear on what is going on in the poem?
DeleteI was perplexed by quite a bit of it, though I like the boldness and wildness of the imagery, especially in the last two stanzas, where we know who is being described.
DeleteI will email you my comments.
ReplyDeleteFirst of all I am obsessed with the image you chose, I feel like it goes perfectly with the vibe of your poem which I also loved. This whole poem sort of gave me nostalgia, like the description made me think of one of the mid 20th century tenement house apartments. I really liked the way that you used line breaks to control how I read the poem and give it a certain rhythm that I definitely feel added to it ex:
ReplyDeletePeeling away with the stretch of
Paint
That hit the walls–
when he fell into his bowl of oats
The use of imagery was spot on and I really liked how you sort of wove in a narrative while also breaking away to describe the scene which made it feel chaotic and different just like the image you chose. Overall I really liked this poem!