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tomato soup
by Lindsay SandersSwing music dancing in and out of their silence,
they arranged themselves in a plush, oversized booth.
He touched a menu, she stared into thin air.
The waitress, pretty, but not too much,
floated to their table like a dust mite,
blowing around without care, smiled
as he fumbled over what to order…
Ceaser salad, and what’s eggplant? Never mind, just the chicken parmesan. With an order of
breadsticks and maybe a glass of wine, wait, do you want to split the breadsticks…?
She stared blankly into the fear in his eyes
And all she wanted was some tomato soup.
She braced herself as the waitress floated off,
dancing in and out of conversations
and around tables and chairs
until he took a breath and their eyes locked.
The whole restaurant, the whole world
was gone in an instant, only the two of them
in their plush, oversized cove,
until he sighed and said her name.
Really, all she wanted was some tomato soup.
He was talking quickly, it didn’t make much sense.
It was mostly noise about the
crash, her parents, both of them, dad had lasted
longer than mom, her death was painless, he came
to find her as soon as he heard….
He was tearing up as he kept talking, kept talking,
kept up his damn talking like it was helping anything.
And where was the waitress?
And why was she dancing around the dining room
to some song with Italian words and
annoying chords and why couldn’t she hear
anything anymore?
What does that dancing waitress know
about rainy days and heartaches,
bad breakups and broken bones, and mom
always making tomato soup when nothing else would help.
He was still talking, still going on
and on, his words like daggers
he mistook for prescription pills.
She held her breath, waiting for him to
stop talking and for the waitress to
stop dancing and the room to
stop spinning. But she knew nothing would help
except some tomato soup.
02/25/2009 Author's Note: For workshop in my poetry class. My professor says he's looking for a strong narrative line, strong metaphor, and lots of concrete imagery.
Posted on 02/25/2009
Copyright © 2010 Lindsay Sanders
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Michelle Angelini on 02/26/09 at 12:02 AM I had written out a good crit then deleted it by accident. I do like the narrative quality of this poem, which is also a bit of stream-of-consciousness because this narrator has just been through a traumatic experience. I would probably change a few words, but mostly this poem stands on its own merit. Remember, in a workshop, you will get suggestions about your work. Take them or leave them according to what you think is useful. Not all the crits will be of use to you. Best of luck to you in your first poetry workshop. I have confidence you will do well. This is an excellent piece for a first workshop. Not everyone's style will be the same. |
| Posted by James Zealy on 02/26/09 at 01:39 AM I like the alliteration of tomato soup and how you develop the story, especially how you lead the reader down the path of how the subject wants tomato soup, because it is the only thing that helps the sense of loss, only her mother is not their to deliver it. Perhaps the waitress floating in and out is symbolic of the mother. I like the fact that is not overdone, and that the reader gets to take their own ride. As a narrative piece this is well done. I would not change a thing, |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 02/26/09 at 09:58 AM ...lindsey, this is tall, as bass says. and too, for a younger poet it is substantial, sans all the fluffy b.s. that young poets do...yours is encompassing, the female/male thingee ventured into the SELVES[of the two of you--especially the YOU] and one has to read your homepage to see that you are young and yet your word-usage belies your age...well written, charlie |
| Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 02/27/09 at 01:50 PM Your listener/reader effortlessly becomes involved when you narrate "she stared into thin air." Then, your listener becomes completely dedicated to finding out what turn of events is going to happen next when you write
"until he sighed and said her name.
Really, all she wanted was some tomato soup."
And the your poem never disappoints. It gives the reader complete immersion into the moments and life shock that the she in the story is going through.
My thoughts. |
| Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 02/27/09 at 01:53 PM (And then is what I meant to write.)
And I agree your poem stands tall and strong and captures immediate interest.
~Jill |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 02/28/09 at 03:43 PM Your professor got what he was looking for. I'm not a huge fan of lenghthy poems, but this one is really, really good! |
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