& coming toward us out of the fog
is the uncoupled next train of everyone
southbound to the U.S. tonight
we can run into the cornfield
the so many stones of us lunging
the so many hands of us clear
popping the sockets of the dry stalks
until it seems the fog has bones
that are pioneer documents
being shredded & then absorbed
into the fog we are gulping
as we turn to listen to the lengthened roar
think of all the times over the years
we have noticed our own reflections in windows
& looked away or through ourselves
at what is really there
a stack of transparencies
the stills of an animated short
two cadavers named Adam & Eve
our first & last selves – frozen
we dyed their insides orange & blue
thinly sliced them crown to heel
& photographed each slice
sped up in sequence
the body comes at us like art
as we hurtle through
listen to them all back there
crying to be prized free
from the blown rust dahlias
of the tail lights in the fog & the high beams
screening wide against cotton-batting
soon we will hear the local sirens
& scream to be casualties among them
Notes on the Poem
Let's visit again Phil Hall's "OUR LITTLE CIVIC IS TOTALLED LOVE", from his 2006 Griffin Poetry Prize shortlisted collection An Oak Hunch. Like the most compelling of dreams, Hall's poem veers from the simple to the labyrinthine. It combines straightforward imagery paralleling a troubled relationship, but is also rich in details and effects. It follows murky dream logic, yet is shot through with moments of lucid reality. The most powerful of dreams often encompass a sense of impending doom and one's helplessness to escape it, and Hall captures that vividly from the outset. A train is bearing down out of the fog on a disabled car, and even leaving it and running into the surrounding fields might not save the unhappy couple. Much here suggests the alienation of the couple, including: " we have noticed our own reflections in windows & looked away or through ourselves" not to mention the volumes spoken by "two cadavers named Adam & Eve". Even the tiniest elements speak most tellingly to the nature of this poem. For example, one small comma or its absence makes a significant difference in the title. Rather than "OUR LITTLE CIVIC IS TOTALLED, LOVE" - the car is destroyed, but I still have a modicum of affection for you, my love - it's just "OUR LITTLE CIVIC IS TOTALLED LOVE". The destroyed car *is* our destroyed love. Even the miniscule indent and skew to the lines gives the overall poem a jittery, wavering feel to it, as if the poem is starting to crumble just as what it depicts is coming apart.