Hobble Creek Review
| Matthew Hittinger |
In the Shadow City...
the parks stretch smaller, in narrower bands, man-
made but de-manned, abandoned so stone
amphitheaters hold audience to moss
and overstuffed ducks shit mines across
fields, down the banks of the human-made lake
where the ripples crack the brown necks and make
the feathers rust because there
in the shadow city, blue and white squares cling
to toppled branches, fight the tow of the swollen cedar
creek as it cascades over WPA-hewn stairs, bottles
and cigarette butts making anchor in grass harbors.
Willows clog the eroded shore, stone precipice;
they slide back, hollow rivulets and crevasses
where roots plunge exposed to shield tires, the pipe,
tendril-covered, from which a charcoal-green stripe
slashes through foam for there
in the shadow city there is no through-the-looking-
glass like here where on every corner your reflection
greets you because there at the park's edge silhouettes
of heads wait in office building windows where glass
reflects sky, the shadows of a smoggy sun
cast down one path plus one path the sum
of which emerges from the trees, connects with concrete
curb-banks, a macadam river as incomplete
as the overturned paddle boats
on the dock as the scrape of gravel on the empty track.
In the shadow city, when stones crunch beneath soles
one gull, with two-beat wings, will perch upon a pole,
not a swan or crane, the ducks and geese will raise
a rhythmic, shrill sound; then silence. A blast
of thrashed air under wing as if the lake cracked
open and rose into the air where, since it is the shadow
city you will see but two towers yellow and blue, two bows
drawn taunt, or two spokes
around which the shadow city turns unlike here where two
towers cause nothing but stillness, are nothing but shadow.
the parks stretch smaller, in narrower bands, man-
made but de-manned, abandoned so stone
amphitheaters hold audience to moss
and overstuffed ducks shit mines across
fields, down the banks of the human-made lake
where the ripples crack the brown necks and make
the feathers rust because there
in the shadow city, blue and white squares cling
to toppled branches, fight the tow of the swollen cedar
creek as it cascades over WPA-hewn stairs, bottles
and cigarette butts making anchor in grass harbors.
Willows clog the eroded shore, stone precipice;
they slide back, hollow rivulets and crevasses
where roots plunge exposed to shield tires, the pipe,
tendril-covered, from which a charcoal-green stripe
slashes through foam for there
in the shadow city there is no through-the-looking-
glass like here where on every corner your reflection
greets you because there at the park's edge silhouettes
of heads wait in office building windows where glass
reflects sky, the shadows of a smoggy sun
cast down one path plus one path the sum
of which emerges from the trees, connects with concrete
curb-banks, a macadam river as incomplete
as the overturned paddle boats
on the dock as the scrape of gravel on the empty track.
In the shadow city, when stones crunch beneath soles
one gull, with two-beat wings, will perch upon a pole,
not a swan or crane, the ducks and geese will raise
a rhythmic, shrill sound; then silence. A blast
of thrashed air under wing as if the lake cracked
open and rose into the air where, since it is the shadow
city you will see but two towers yellow and blue, two bows
drawn taunt, or two spokes
around which the shadow city turns unlike here where two
towers cause nothing but stillness, are nothing but shadow.
Matthew Hittinger is the author of the chapbooks Platos de Sal, Narcissus
Resists, and Pear Slip which won the Spire Press 2006 Chapbook Award. He
has twice been shortlisted for the Walt Whitman Award, and has received the
Hopwood Award and The Helen S. and John Wagner Prize from the University
of Michigan. Matthew's poetry has been published in Michigan Quarterly
Review, MiPOesias, and in Best New Poets 2005.
Resists, and Pear Slip which won the Spire Press 2006 Chapbook Award. He
has twice been shortlisted for the Walt Whitman Award, and has received the
Hopwood Award and The Helen S. and John Wagner Prize from the University
of Michigan. Matthew's poetry has been published in Michigan Quarterly
Review, MiPOesias, and in Best New Poets 2005.
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