A Poem.

I took Contemporary Lit last year. It was amazing, to say the least. I must have learned more in that class alone than in every other English class I took in high school, combined. The people in the class didn’t hurt either. Anyway, we analyzed poems every day, which at first scared the crap out of me. I had absolutely no idea where to start when looking for deeper meaning. But I learned. Here’s a poem that I just got. I love it. Enjoy.

The Partial Explanation

Charles Simic

Seems like a long time

Since the waiter took my order.

Grimy little luncheonette,

The snow falling outside.

Seems like it has grown darker

Since I last heard the kitchen door

Behind my back

Since I last noticed

Anyone pass on the street.

A glass of ice-water

Keeps me company

At this table I chose myself

Upon entering.

And a longing,

Incredible longing

To eavesdrop

On the conversation

Of cooks.


I love this poem mostly because it speaks to the sense of restlessness I feel every day. I’ll break it down for you. This guy has been sitting at this table by himself, which he chose himself, for quite some time now. Time is passing. It’s getting dark outside and the ice in his glass is melting a little. He wants to know what’s coming. He wants to know. Think about the table he chooses as the choices in life you make, and the ice melting and the dark outside are just indicators of time passing without much happening. What’s going to happen? The cooks are god. See, you ordered from them, and you have some idea of what’s to come, but you’re not exactly sure what form it’ll take. You want to know what form your future will take. Because you’re sort of stuck here at this table now, on this path that you chose in the past, and there’s no going back.

I like this poem a lot. Also, it reminds me of “Nighthawks” by Edward Hopper. Isolation?


One response to “A Poem.

  1. Thats an interesting poem. I like it.

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