You can find the following poem by Louis McKee in the current issue of Rattle, vol. 11, no.2, p. 47:
Loss
When I was young I left
my new kid gloves on a bus
coming home from school,
said they must have fallen
from my pockets--my mother
didn't want to hear that
I hated gloves, that I liked cold
hands, fingers, and pockets
they fit into better. I had a cap;
this was years later--I wore it
everywhere, and one day walking
down the avenue, for no reason
at all, I took it off and threw it
into the open window of a bus
that was passing by. I cursed,
later, its being missing,
but that was all part of it,
preparing for loss. Everything,
sooner or later, goes--
finding a bus heading somewhere.
Louis McKee
I find it very poignant how the child in this poem prefers the feeling of "cold hands, fingers" to the security of warm gloves. He already has a sense at this young age that he can't get attached to them, because sooner or later they will be lost. So he beats fate to the punch and leaves them on the bus, perhaps feeling that if he controls the loss--if he chooses when they will be gone--then the loss will be less painful.
As an adult, the narrator still tries to trump fate by purposely tossing away his hat, again choosing a bus. He regrets it and curses "its being missing," but still prefers to be in a state of dealing with loss than to be simply waiting for loss to take him by surprise.
This feeling of the "untrustworthiness" of life is familiar to me, and perhaps many of us can relate to the narrator's desire to sieze some small control over his circumstances. Sometimes we end relationships because we can see the end coming, but it is too painful to let the final days play out. Perhaps we quit a job we like because we see the pink slips coming, and we want to avoid the experience of a lay-off. My brother loves computer games, but he often won't finish them because he can't bear for them to be over.
Loss is inevitable, but painful. Surely it is not possible to prevent it. Is it futile to try to control the tiny losses we see coming?
9 comments:
Amy,
I am more intrigued with your interpretation of the poem than the poem itself. I think you just explained why I don't want a puppy.
Ah, the feeling of loss – the realization that, someday, everything will end or go away is more excruciating than losing someone or something unexpectedly...
Or not. Could comfort be found in the close? Maybe it isn;t even loss. Could just be change. Change and discomfort. Not always thing to be avoided.
I think we all anticipate losses, large and small, to some extent. They're inevitable. But to close off to them is to close off to a very rich part of life. Doors close but they also open.
Despite the title of the poem and the express reference to "loss" in the poem itself -
in a curious way, I find myself thinking of this poem in terms of "freedom" more than anything else.
The chap doesn't want to be tied down - he wants his freedom - but he's aware that the kind of freedom he has in mind necessarily entails "loss", because he needs to abandon the things that would otherwise tie him down.
In fact, he's preparing for the day that he grows up and leaves home ("finding a bus heading somewhere"), thereby gaining freedom - his mother and himself will then be "lost" to each other, but that's "all part of it, preparing for loss".
Interesting point, Gilbert!
It really aches as a kid when you lose something important to you. I think growing up with animals is really valuable for children, a means by which to be introduced to finite nature of our lives and the accompanying shadow of loss. A wonderful piece of work.
this poems defines life real well. it is powerful. it is truth.
TL:
I can't help but laugh at your not wanting a puppy. Caring for pets is indeed a poignant situation, ultimately about gain and loss. I suppose all relations are ultimately like that.
Danny:
It's possible that fear of loss is worse than loss itself. Depends on the loss, I suppose.
Pseudonym:
Yes, I think that you hit on something with change. Loss is required to create change, and perhaps the narrator tossed his hat away in an attempt ot create some sort of change in his life.
MB:
I believe that you're right about accepting loss, although I can't say that I'm very good at it.
Gilbert:
I appreciate your optimistic take on this poem. Perhaps the loss of the gloves and hat symbolize the necessary separation between mother and child, the growth of the child into a man.
Martyn:
God, yes. I lost so many cats growing up, and a dog. I'm glad I had them, but I still grieve for them decades later.
Billy:
It does allude to a great truth, one that we are all managing to touch on. I have a postmodernist view that we can't quite capture and define exactly what the essence is in this poem, but we are all touching a part of it.
Sivermoon:
I suppose the effect of loss is determined by the nature of the loss itself and the nature of the person experiencing it. I feel I have experienced losses that just plain hurt. I don't know if I'm wiser from them, but I like to think so.
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