Janet Bowdan Working Note: When writing this poem, I was feeling the distance from being in New York or DC, compounded by the way I first heard about the September 11 disasters. I only heard about it on the radio (my TV doesn’t work) so I had no visual images, only descriptions. Aftermath—(dis)location The aftermath is ongoing It’s___________sunny and pleasant this afternoon (mostly, strangely) ________________we are calling our friends (safe at home, on the planes, on the 84th floor) saying are you safe? I’m safe. Are you safe? Do you know whether_________is safe? (Name who is supposed to be there, name who might be there who usually sleeps late, name who shouldn’t be there, name remembered later) This morning is sunny and pleasant The afternoon continues sunny and pleasant That weather should be pleasant (now, at that time, in this aftermath) is it is not just one thing, it’s another (bizarre, ironic, the way the world is) we are recovering______________ (undeniable loss, remnants of the recognizable world, attentiveness) The aftermath is ongoing We are calling our friends, out of the arc of loss (safe at home we, on the planes we, at our desk in a high tower we) We see things fall, we are inside things that fall, we fall She is outside arguing with him, “don’t go to work,” he wants to go to work because it is a work day if he can go to work everything is still there he will even walk to work to get there and maybe walking there will make it be there while it is happening cellphones telling us “don’t go to work,” and they see and they turn, they go inside to where the television is to put it there instead of in the world We thought we were and have been saying this repeatedly (safe, too powerful, too nice, too hard-working, invulnerable) and variations of the above we were out of the arc of loss Are we saying “war” to avoid saying “emergency”? or “shock”? to give it form? We are doing laundry rescue personnel are coated with ash and debris, everything is covered with dust so we are doing laundry (we are miles away, we are hundreds of miles away, we are right there) While it is afterwards we are learning what had been happening cellphones telling us details brought up topside from below or, having fallen, into light we are recovering loss (undeniable) attentiveness We direct your attention to these landmarks there is more to see, not less all we have looked away from in our lives and—here we are—how can we look away now? Bio: Janet Bowdan teaches at Western New England College. This poem is part of a recent manuscript collection entitled “Siren.” She also has poems forthcoming in Tooth and in Smartish Pace. writing after september 11 index |