Poems After Vivian Maier, by Margo Davis

Go Out and Play!      
                                                   
after Maier’s photo of a trio 

Untitled, by Vivian Maier (USA) 1953
Street Photography 4 | Vivian Maier Photographer

It’s jarring, this wide-eyed baby 
lying unsupervised on a pillow 
atop the pram’s bonnet as the young girl 
wrestles with a crib mattress. Oh, 
it’s a doll! So where’s the infant? 
Surely it’s not napping in this carriage. 
Is this "mama" the boys’ older 
sister? We can’t see her face to confirm
a resemblance. The males appear 
brothers fixated on a gliding bi-
plane’s contrails or bannered slogan. 
The young child stands slack jawed. 
Which makes me want to look up, too.

*

​Sharing / Caring
    
after Maier’s photo of two gossips

Untitled, by Vivian Maier (USA), not dated
Street Photography 4 | Vivian Maier Photographer
 
Each girl could be eight or eighty,                         
amusing oneself, the other,
 
confident gossip’s hair swinging
free, her listener festooned with 
 
curls held in check with a barrette.  
Do you suppose it’s genetic, 
 
passing on rumours or half-truths,  
or do they mimic Grandma or 
 
nosy neighbours? And who enjoys
this more, the local mouthpiece or
 
gleeful ear who will then whisper
an embellishment, like playing 
 
muted telephone until words                       
distend the subject’s self-regard,
 
only to later flatten it.
Greater the height, harder the fall. 

**

Searching                                                         
     
after Maier’s photo of a workman       
 
Untitled, by Vivian Maier (USA) from The Color Work, c. Nov. 2018
https://shop.fotodepartament.ru/shop/books/art/vivian-maier-die-farbphotographien
 
Is the man in jeans and work jacket 
standing on the lip of his truck 
bumper? Doors ajar, he digs      
for that certain something buried   
on the top shelf. Bent to the task, 
bent over, bent out of shape, 
his task among rolls of greasy
black coils, other coils silvery grey
about knee-height. But what he wants 
is not that stack of rusty pipes 
nearer his feet, or what’s unraveling, 
but what’s hidden, out of sight, 
out of reach, on the top shelf 
beyond oil-smudged plastic buckets 
holding boxes unknown to us, 
unknown to him until he inventories
the extraordinary ordinary. Could it be
that long flathead screwdriver poking 
out of a big tear in his rear pocket?
                  
**

Panache     
   
 after Maier’s photo of a woman perched 
 on a fireplug 
 
Untitled, by Vivian Maier (USA) from The Color Work, c. Nov. 2018
https://www.facebook.com/photo/?fbid=10219758903827170&set=pcb.931178930567822
 
Roost here often? This woman’s bright 
coat could back-split on this hydrant.                    
 
And that violet chapeau, a great touch.
This woman, a cause célèbre,
 
making life unfold in her own good time,   
her next encounter with friends or friendly 
 
neighbour, when taking the local bus line.  
What’s in those shopping bags? Let’s peek inside
 
at an indulgence, lime green shawl 
threaded with gold lamé. Who makes herself 
 
at home on a fire plug? Maier’s photo 
includes a large mesh can holding street trash,
 
food wrappers, boxes. I see discarded
grime, grease. The woman settles in.     
 
**

Window Dressing   
 
after Maier’s storefront photo
 
Untitled, by Vivian Maier (USA) from The Color Work, c. Nov. 2018
https://www.facebook.com/groups/435350943483959/posts/931178930567822/
 
Is it cool, standing without a stitch,
the young girl’s backside 
 
exposed to passersby? She waves
at, maybe salutes, a mother 
figure clad in black cloche hat and
 
long black knit sleeves  
beneath an orange corduroy jumper. 
 
OK, they are mannequins.
All female, all nude except for three 
stylish adults. Naked innocents 
 
converse as if this were normal 
as the woman, hand on hip,
 
assesses. Pedestrians must look, 
look away, or stare 
at the evolving nudist colony. 
 
Margo Davis

This series developed after Margo Davis attended Lorette C. Luzajic's course on the interplay of photos and photography entitled Drawing the Light. Margo's poems have appeared in The Ekphrastic Review, as well as Synkroniciti, Equinox, The Mackinaw and Deep South.  Forthcoming poems are to appear in The MacGuffin and Arkansas Review. Margo’s photos have recently appeared at Ph21 Gallery in Barcelona, as well as in Mockingheart Review, Equinox, and next, Flyway. Originally from Louisiana, Margo lives in Houston. Her recent poetry collection is Uncoupling.