The Tenant

[CalebPerry]

I felt sorry for the elderly woman who
became our tenant after father left.
Mother took her in because she was “safe” —
what harm could an old woman do? But she
was lonely and wouldn’t keep to her room.
She was always under foot in the kitchen.
I never wondered why she needed a home
at such an age, or why she owned so little,
but now it’s clear: She had outlived her world. [Could this line come out?]

[I am cutting the following stanzas down to 7 lines. Which lines should go?]

Even then I had a soft spot for the old,
but this one didn’t have my grandma’s spirit.
She was a bit like an old clown. We teased her,
but never to the point of open cruelty. [This line?]
Like when our cat clawed her ankles from inside
a paper bag, we knew it was coming but
didn’t speak. (No blood was spilled, no harm.)
Helplessness is funny only to a point. [Or this line?]

She was incontinent, which was why she had
to go. Too many messes, mother said,
and mother thought she would ruin the bed.
(Mother was the one who put grandma out.) [I intend to cut this line, but I like it.]
But while they hunted for a better place,
she stayed on, sleeping in our guest room that
had never had a guest, shuffling down the hall,
breaking out of jail whenever she could.

[I ended up making my own choices to get the first three stanzas down to 7 lines. Here they are:]

The Tenant

I felt sorry for the elderly woman who
became our tenant after father left.
Mother took her in because she was “safe” —
what harm could an old woman do? But she
was lonely and wouldn’t keep to her room.
She was always under foot in the kitchen,
and sometimes she would eat the family’s food.

Even then I had a soft spot for the old,
but this one didn’t have my grandma’s spirit.
She was a bit like an old clown. We teased her.
When our cat clawed her ankles from inside
a paper bag, we knew it was coming but
didn’t speak. (No blood was spilled, no harm.)
Helplessness is funny only to a point.

She was incontinent, which was why she had
to go. Too many messes, mother said,
and mother thought she would ruin the bed.
But while they hunted for a better place,
she stayed on, sleeping in our guest room that
had never had a guest, shuffling down the hall,
breaking out of jail whenever she could.

One day she stumbled at us with a book
of poems in her hand. Her face had a look
of triumph mixed with dread. She must have hoped
they'd gain her some respect, but they were dull;
they made me sad, though I was nicer to her
after that. My own scribblings had been panned
at school, and I was still feeling the wound. [the wound = upset? -- upset is an off-rhyme with respect]

Life gives us nothing if not parallels.
Sixty years have passed, and I write poems too,
though mine were never published in a book.
I say I’m doing the Dickinson thing —
saving them up in my “computer-trunk” —
but who will think to look there when I’m gone?
(I'd best remove the password while I can.)

I'm on my own because I had no kids.
I lease some space inside a family's house.
Happily, they never told me to stay
in my room (though I know it’s what they want).
Now I’m the one who stumbles down the hall,
brandishing my poems like a rubber sword
at people who have better things to do.

It took two months to find a place for her,
the old woman whose name I can’t recall —
a studio in a building way downtown,
where she’d be stuck in a room all day long,
tasked with cleaning up her own mess, with no
one down the hall to show her poems to,
and no cat in a bag to grab her toes.

-end-

After resisting the inevitable, I finally took a stab at writing a haiku — 575 syllables, right? (That's a joke.)

I worry that there’s a little too much repetition in the poem, and I'm aware that it is prosaic.

Later: I've been tweaking the poem constantly, and it is now pretty much in its final form. (I didn't make enough changes to post a new version.) If anyone feels that it has significant flaws, let me know.

In case you're curious, this story happened, although I fictionalized the part about my living with a family in my old age. (I rent an apartment.) I fictionalize a lot of the details of my poems just to make them more interesting; how important the "truth" is in poetry would make an interesting topic for discussion.

[bjondon]

I like this Perry. My heart fell when I saw the length
but actually it was an easy read.
The rubber sword one of the best lines and I wouldn't
condense those two stanzas.
Semi-colons don't seem to match this relaxed vernacular style,
maybe replace them with dashesor commas.
The 'password' line? Perhaps that could be phrased a bit more
obliquely . . . it seems a tad clunky at the moment.
Thanks for posting.
Jules

[CalebPerry]

Thank you, Jules. I'm glad that someone can appreciate a poem with a conversational style. Long poems have to be easy to read to keep the reader's interest.

I'll work on the parts you mentioned. (I've already made some changes to the original post.)

[David]

Yes, I like it too. And I agree, conversational poems definitely have their charms - often more so than more strenuously poetical things. There's always a danger that the heat on such poems is turned down too low, so that things start to get less interesting, but I think this one works pretty well.

It almost feels less like a poem than a companionable stroll round Perry's soul, but that's not really a criticism.

I found it very touching, on the whole.

Cheers

David

[CalebPerry]

Thank you, David! I think that all it needs is for a few awkward lines to be smoothed out. If I can smooth out the meter too -- i.e., make it more iambic -- that will help to carry the reader along to the end. I'm going for pathos, of course; I hope that isn't so obvious that it ruins the poem.

[1lankest]

I agree with the others, especially David who characterised the poem perfectly - a bimble around Perry’s soul.
For me stanza 1 is the best and could stand alone nicely, perhaps dropping the first two lines which are unnecessary given the title.

Not your style, I know, so leave it as it is.

Enjoyed!

Luke

[CalebPerry]

I couldn't find "bimble" in the dictionary, but I certainly know what you mean.

So you feel that 90% of this narrative poem is expendible? You couldn't come up with suggestions for how it might be improved? Or even tell me what it is about the story that leaves you cold? I don't pretend that it's my best poem. It is sentimental and perhaps overly cute; but if I cut out 90% of it, then the story remains untold.

Actually, you seem to be sending me two messages. You'd prefer that I change it, but then you say to leave it. (By the way, in the past when you said to "leave it", I thought you were telling me not to reply to your crit.)

[Firebird]

I too think this poem is very touching indeed Perry and also very well crafted in its present form.

Cheers,

Tristan

[CalebPerry]

Thank you, Tristan. I hope you're not humoring me!

I personally think that there are areas which sound a little clunky -- and I'll acknowledge that it probably rattles on too long -- but those areas will be fixed with time. I often find myself discovering the fix for a poem a year or two after I wrote it.

Thanks again.

[1lankest]

I didn’t say it left me cold, Perry. Quite the opposite. I just think a thinning out would warm the sentimental cockles more directly. There’s just so much here that simply describes, albeit effectively, the situation. Does it transform it into something memorable, of the imagination? No. Not for me.

That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy it. I’ll refer you back to my original post for my view on how to begin to elevate it to a poem in the modern sense of the word.

Luke

[CalebPerry]

Despite how it may seem, I do understand that concision is a good thing in poetry. I have considered ways to cut the poem down. But it is a narrative poem, and narrative poems are more about the story than the poetry. I'm still working on it.

[churinga]

Hi Perry

But she wouldn’t keep to her room.
This seems a bit odd, surely the tenancy included use of the kitchen etc.

She was always under foot in the kitchen.
This is also odd, underfoot suggests either a pet or a toddler,
it seems completely wrong when describing an old woman.

She had outlived her world. Good way of putting it.

She was a bit like an old clown. I like this too.

I liked this poem, you have a knack for capturing sadness coupled with the past without being sentimental.
I didn't cry when I read it but given a nudge I might have.

cheers

Ross

[CalebPerry]

Oh, thank you so much, Ross. I respect your opinion.

These lines ...

But she wouldn’t keep to her room.
She was always under foot in the kitchen.

... were meant to convey the arrangement that the family had -- that she had "kitchen privileges" but was otherwise expected to stay in her room. In actuality, I don't remember what my mother's arrangement with this lady was. I don't think that she was, actually, expected to be a prisoner in her room, but that made a better poem. (I never hesitate to mess with the details of a poem to make it more dramatic.) I can imagine that there are families who rent rooms out of their house and do expect tenants to stay in their rooms, but that only works with working-age tenants who have friends, etc., and don't need a family to socialize with.

As for being "under foot", that was my way of saying that she was a nuisance to my mother. Also, consider that women often shrink from their full height in old age, making them smaller. People can be under foot to other people in the sense that we sometimes step on each other's toes. I can find other language.

"She had outlived her world" was sacrificed when I decided to make all the stanzas the same length. I like it too. Maybe I can find a way to put it back in.

I'm so glad you like the poem overall. It isn't exactly concise, which is what people seem to like these days; but if I manage to get a book published, I don't think it will be the worst poem in the book.

[churinga]

I wrote 'with being sentimental, it should have been 'without being...' I have corrected it.

[CalebPerry]

I wrote 'with being sentimental, it should have been 'without being...' I have corrected it.

Thanks for letting me know. Sentimentality can be a killer. I do in fact think the poem is a little too sentimental, but I am still working on it. Parts of it sound awkward to me.

Getting back to this line -- "She was always under foot in the kitchen" -- I could replace it with "She was always in the way in the kitchen", but then the word "way" is repeated, creating a redundant sound if not an actual redundancy. Or I could make it, "She was often in the way in the kitchen." No one else was concerned about "under foot", and I suspect that most people just take it to mean "in the way". However, if you feel strongly about it, I can change it.

Thanks again.

====================

Ah, "underfoot" is an actual word, and it has two definitions:

1. under one's feet; on the ground.
2. constantly present and in one's way.