A Not-so-Failure in 2 Parts

By CRALAN KELDER

excerpt from the ongoing Failures Diary 

 

i go to pick up my kid

at his crèche

that’s a fancy european word

for daycare

 

instead of bundling him away

i slump a seat on the floor

in an alcove-like space

 

and look out at snow in the garden

it’s quite peaceful

a poem starts composing in my head

the other parents’ voices

begin to fade away

 

my son is playing

with another boy

going up and down

up and down a slide

built into the wall

laughing laughing

 

his friend comes over

grinning,

right up close,

pokes me hard in the cheek,

says

who are you?

 

 

**

 

water freezes in the air

we call it snow

 

people in the next room are talking talking

making a racket racket, I sit still

as their voices begin to fade

 

and become inanimate,

a chair or something,

it feels a bit like being stoned

 

outside through the window

i notice wind

exploding small puffs

of snow from trees

 

the window makes observation

of cold effortless

I must remember to look up

‘the invention of glass’

 

                                    –Amsterdam, January 2013

 

 

Cralan Kelder is the author of Give Some Word. His work has recently appeared in Zen Monster, Poetry Salzberg Review, and VLAK, among other publications.

Photo from Flickr Creative Commons

A Not-so-Failure in 2 Parts

Related Posts

Dispatches from Mullai Nilam, Marutha Nilam, and Neithal Nilam

VIJAYALAKSHMI
There is fire everywhere, / both inside and outside. / Unaware of the intensity of the fire, / they maintain silence / like the serenity of a corpse. / From the burning fire / bursts out a waterfall tainted in red. / All over the shores have bloomed / the flaming lilies of motherhood.

When I Go to Chicago

SHELLEY STENHOUSE
When I Go to Chicago, things break. The last time, on the last day, the pipes in the kitchen burst and flooded my parents’ blonde wood floor. When I’m up in that 87th floor apartment, I look at the sky’s blank expression. I keep the little square office window open for the sliver of nature.

Black and white image of a bird with a long neck

Dispatch from Marutha Nilam

SAKTHI ARULANANDHAM
With the swiftness and dexterity / of a hawk that pounces upon a chicken / and takes it by force, / the bird craves / snapping up a vast terrain / with its powerful, sharp beak / and flying away with it. // When that turns out to be impossible, / in the heat of its great big sigh, / all the rivers dry up.