High-spirited and unpredictable, Marcia Southwick’s third collection is, among other things, a remarkable mirror of our place and time. With unrelenting curiosity and brio, she reflects our materialistic culture right back at us, showing us the world we live in with unflinching honesty and compassionate affection.
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From the Book:
I’ve seen the future in a teacup, a pair of Nikes
and dust on a windowsill. I’ve seen it in a tire’s skid marks,
on the blade of a barber’s shears. All around me
two-income couples are buying title insurance.
They’re scanning the stores for satellite dishes,
burglar alarms and new siding. They’re playing tennis
at the country club with their trigger-happy teenagers.
And I want to tell them I’ve already seen the baby-boomers
die out. Everybody’s checking out the Jerry Garcia
neckwear collection at the Lord & Taylor and I want to tell them
God plays hardball. I’m already seeing flash floods,
Rebels are slouching in buildings and emotions everywhere
are as volatile and Nasdaq. Waiting for us is a big splash,
a designer virus, nothing but automobile junkyards
and tattoo parlors. God’s throwing a bash.
His storms send the crowds scurrying. Caddies
on golf courses strip down to their underwear
and pray in the rain, as God smiles with the immaculate
sheen of an airbrushed photo. After years of exile, he’s
made his debut—a wizard of Oz with pectoral implants,
elevator shoes, and the face of one of the ten most wanted
deadbeat dads. And I want to say stop! Not everyone will own
a piece of the Martian meteorite. Not everyone will get
sexy abs in four weeks flat or be around to buy low-rise
boot-cut pants in polyester jersey. Not everyone will travel
the four-hundred-mile-long road through the jungles of Burma.
Not everyone’s linden saplings, trained along chestnut branch-
trellises, will grow into a Gothic vault of greenery.