Popcorn Man after six-year-old’s marker drawing on paper In midst of flame and steam he pours a stream of popcorn corn in the popping pot that popping slow at first spedup bangs harder in the pot than rain against a tinroof top. When it erupts popping off its top it goes bursting through window and door, popping all the way to downtown where it rains apocalyptic popcorn in the streets filling alleys filling trenchcoat pockets trashbins, tunnels filling the entire banking district. There I gaze at the pugnacious baseball sized slant rain popcorn raining in the arcades, store fronts and in movie marquees. Soon I see there’s nothing left but popcorn mountains in a sprawling popcorn mountain range where basking high rise wealth once proudly stood. Think of their size so big and weight. Each popped corn light a billion trillion of them filling its art- framed universe so dense and tight so heavy in cooling to a white blackhole inside that if you got under and went to its pinpoint center there’d be nothing of its hiss nor squeak of its compacting tightness heard and in that silence invisibly you’d read the echo, read the indivisible absence also of all light. If you could see. But see her here who made it, drew it out of her mind. Its creation’s what in size and weight and shape she’d seen and sees now also from outside the frame with us. Beneath it all her popcorn man’s poor popcorn hands and feet stick out so still and numb as if asleep-- his face disfigured by his bulging popcorn cheek his eyes so dazed and cold and out of reach for popcorn sake. Richard Becker Richard Becker is a concert pianist, composer and Director of Piano Study at the University of Richmond. He has had a Bread Loaf Scholarship for poetry, a Vermont Studio Center Fellowship as a poet, and, as a composer has been a MacDowell Fellow. Becker has published poetry in the U City Review, The Baltimore Review, America, Columbia, Cold Mountain Review and Main Street Rag.
1 Comment
Bob Bradshaw
6/26/2019 12:13:31 pm
What a fun poem! Enjoyed!
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