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Sunday, November 8, 2015

swim good



Essay #3: Response to Poetry: Work
by Maggie Gray | November 12, 2015

Since the Industrial Revolution, Americans of all ages and social classes have become “slaves to the clock.” Chad Walsh, Theodore Roethke, Paul Walker and Marsha Major have written poems that evoke a sense of melancholy regarding the working class American using similar techniques. These poems give their readers a glimpse into the lives and thoughts of the American worker who, while subscribing to the life society has structured for them, is not finding a greater fulfillment in their craft but is passively wishing for something more gratifying. Through phrase structure, creative adjective and verb use, colorful (or a lack of colorful) imagery and rhythm, these poets create a sense of incompleteness, repetitiveness, and wistful wonder of what may be in store for any that can escape the daily routine of the masses. (More after the Jump)

Three of these four poets come full circle in their poem to emphasize the redundancy of the day-to-day lives they are living and observing. Most obviously, Chad Walsh begins and ends his piece with the same two lines. “From buses beached like an invasion fleet / They fill the waiting room with striding feet” (560, Lines 1-2, 21-22). In between these lines, Walsh lyricizes the commute of the white man and the “lesser breeds if black and brown” (560, Line 5) as they go through the same motions to get to work, back home, through dinner, to sleep and back to their commute again. “At six a drink, at seven dinner’s served. / At ten or twelve, depressed, undressed, unnerved, / They mount their wives, dismount, they doze and dream. / Apocalyptic Negroes in a stream” (560, Lines 11-14). Not only does Walsh make it clear that there is little to no happiness through his used of adjectives, his verb choice in describing the sleeping and sexing lives of these people completely removes all romance from what is typically seen as one of the highlights of life – family and love.  By finishing with the same lines he began, Walsh has further articulated that, regardless of the day of the week, Americans are subjected to the same routine over and over again.
Theodore Roethke chooses to begin his stream of consciousness stating, “I have known the inexorable sadness of pencils, / Neat in their boxes” (44, Lines 1-2) and ends describing the dust of this monotony “Glazing the pale hair, the duplicate grey standard faces” (44, Line 13). While it is less clear, the “inexorable sadness of pencils” (44, Line 1) and the “duplicate grey standard faces” (44, Line 13) are related because they are one in the same. The grey tip of a number two pencil is a standard commodity in schools and, in describing the people’s faces as grey, standard, he is bringing the two together. One could even argue that Roethke is comparing the pencils, “Neat in their boxes, dolor of pad and paper-weight” (44, Line 2) to those trapped in institutions: following orders, abiding by what is asked of them, “neat in their boxes” (44, Line 2). Just as the other authors have done, between Roethke’s open and close adjectives conveying hopelessness, sadness and weary are littered. He clearly describes how desolate and unmoving he sees the traditions he is bound to. “Lonely reception room…The unalterable pathos of basin and pitcher…Endless duplication of lives and objects…long afternoons of tedium” (44, Lines 5-6, 8, 11). His chosen phrases paint an image of a greyscale life; lack-luster and unoriginal.
Paul Walker takes a morbid view in approaching this same tedium by beginning “my life” pre-birth and ending post-mortem. “zygote / in womb…on bus / in tomb” (53. Lines 1-2, 7-8). Sandwiched within these lines, Walker has but four lines made up of only eight words. He uses a minimalist tactic to convey how little life is lived between the institutions we are confined by. Walker travels through a life in staccato fashion with this poem; a stylistic decision to create a repetitive rhythm for the reader, congruent with how he views existence.
While Marsha Major’s, “Office Job,” does not use the same full circle effect used by the other authors, her adjective use shares the common purpose of creating a bleak interpretation of the workplace and how it oppresses the passion of being. “It smells of briefcases and wilted white shirts” (33, Line 1) relates the smell of her occupation and daily uniform to an adjective typically used to describe dying flowers. Her choice of the word “wilted” creates an idea for the reader of how uninspired and stunted she sees her job. Major keeps her poem short and closes with words that convey disconnect to her career; “how many days must I play on this stage / for which I have no / relevant acting / experience” (33, Lines 5-8). To describe herself as an unfamiliar actress is to describe herself as a person working in a job she gains no self-actualization from nor does she feel comfortable in. She is using her personal experience to convey what many feel: that they are stuck in a position they must continue pursuing for monetary compensation necessary to life rather than follow their passions and be fulfilled by their daily work. 
Today, from the time we enter the education system and have comprehensive learning abilities, we are taught to absorb as much knowledge as possible, put said knowledge to use and chase our dreams as fervently and far as we possibly can. These poems provoke a question within me: Were these authors, subjects, narrators, observers all taught the same thing in their youth? Do these people feel that they have fallen short of their dreams? I find that many young adults that I am acquainted with feel a hole, or that they are existing in a state of limbo at the quarter century mark of their lives. Are we getting too old to follow our dreams with reckless abandon? Does their come a time when you have run out of free space to chase your dreams and must replace your dreams with a well-paying nine to five? I would argue against it. These poems describe the masses as a singular entity forever stuck on a daily repeat cycle and, while I agree that this has become the norm, I hardly think it is a current we cannot swim against.

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Works Cited
Major, Marsha. "Office Job." Poetry on the Buses 1999. King County Metro, 1999. Web. 5 Nov. 2015.
Roethke, Theodore. The Collected Poems of Theodore Roethke. Garden City: Anchor, 1975. 44. Print.
Walker, Paul. "My Life." Poetry on the Buses 1999. King County Metro, 1999. Web. 5 Nov. 2015.
Walsh, Chad. Port Authority Terminal: 9 A.M. Monday. New York: McGraw- Hill, 1994. Print.

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