A poem of wild weather from Stan Rice (1942-2002), whose concise songs of praise continue to fascinate.
Tornado at Night
They ran out in nightgowns to seek the protection
Of the overhang of the abandoned gas station,
And resembled the Erecthium’s female columns.
The broken power lines flashed white
When they touched the wet ground,
And the girls’ legs showed
As round shadows through their nightgowns.
I stayed in my apartment until the steps blew away.
My candle almost extinguished itself from sheer shaking.
A huge tree fell on my neighbor’s car.
He was in it for safety.
Out he leaped from the unsquashed half
Making the voice of Donald Duck running from death.
I jumped from my balcony then,
And went walking in excess, shirtless,
Praising, opening my mouth, sleek the whips,
Shirtless, as when gods were men.
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Stan was my main mentor during my college years; Kay Boyle and Denise Levertov were the others. I remember him reading his own poems in class. I can tell you that he was a vibrant, gifted teacher of poetry, far beyond the quality of his own poems, such as the one presented publicly today. Unfortunately, at the time of his death, that he died more a painter than poet was our own considerable fault in assessing his fame being linked to whom he was married, rather than his poetic side.
Stan Rice’s “Tornado at Night,” uses metaphor in his unique way to bring a sort of poetic sanity to a raging storm. His use of the Caryatids to bring personification to an otherwise prosaic service station is superb.
His line, “And went walking in excess,” to poetically represent himself, engaging a terrible storm, by saying he was in “excess,” makes us nostalgic for ancient days.
Yes, there was a time that man could tempt the gods. Oh; if only they could be closer to us now, and we could be Übermenschen to respond.
He shows that poetry can be all consuming, even in situations encumbered with death and destruction.
R.L.L.