Vox Populi
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Mary Jane White: Summer in Waukon, Iowa
1.
The curly-haired cherub, maybe
Eleven, if that, seated on a concrete step,
In his grey t-shirt, blazoned with the
Slogan “Virginity Rocks” is plucking
The late dandelions and rolling them up
Into spit-wads he chucks after the
Younger crowd flying down Second Street.
2.
Today he is lolling on a collapsed
Plastic-web chaise, entertaining himself
With the small screen of his phone;
As the sun washes it out, he heaves
His body over in the frustrations of
Summer, shouting to the dogs inside,
Shut up, shut up, why don’cha!
~~~
Copyright 2025 Mary Jane White
Mary Jane White’s many publications include Dragon Fly. Toad. Moon. (Press 53, 2022). Originally from North Carolina, she practiced law at her home, the O. J. Hager House in Waukon, Iowa.
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Oh, boys. So true, this lively poem.
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So much in so few words, all invoking first a picture, then that response that seems to come from a poetry place inside the chest.
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Yes! Well-said, Barb!
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I truly envy how much gets said in such brief compass. The ending is particularly enviable. Bravissima!
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I agree, Syd. Thanks.
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Such a perfect portrait of a moment in the life of a beautiful American child — and, as Jim did, I also found a sonnet like quality to this moving and movie-like poem. I can *see* him. Ah, but those dogs, those dogs barking inside — what a way to close that poem!
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Great closure. I agree. Mary Jane is a master craftswoman.
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Bravo, Mary Jane White.
There is much moving beneath the surface of this poem. Iowa small towns have come a long way since Grant Wood’s American Gothic (1930), and here the poem allows us a glimpse of the changes still at play. This is no longer the virginal land of a Midwest white person’s mythology. I love how the poem divides to show us the clashing cultures in that boy’s life. A cut-in two-sonnet? Oh, the Midwest small towns– Where the dogs and the poets keep nosing around. And an eleven year old boy has the last say.
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Great analysis, Jim. I hadn’t noticed the “cut-in-two sonnet” form. Thank you!
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Wonderful poem and poet!
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Isn’t she?
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I love the raucous little boy of this poem — he echoes my brothers, cousins and me when we were that age. Mary Jane’s poems have always been a great inspiration for me. She finds resonance in simple scenes. True Americana!
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