The Elevator Man Adheres to Form
Not really the elevator man at Newberry Library
I am reminded, by the tan man who wings the elevator
of Rococo art. His ways
are undulating waves that shepherd and swing us
cupid-like from floor to floor.
He sweethearts us with polished pleasantries, gallantly
flourishes us up and up. No casual “Hi”s from him.
His greetings, Godspeedings display his Ph D aplomb.
And I should feel like a cherubim
All Fleur-de-lis and pastel-shell-like, but instead
I vision other tan and deeper much than tan
early Baroque-like men who (seeing themselves still strut-
lessly groping, winding down subterranean grottoes of injustice,
down dark spirals) feel
with such tortuous, smoked-stone grey intensity
that they exhale a hurricane of gargoyles, then reel into them.
I see these others boggling in their misery
and wish this elevator artisan would fill his flourishing form
with warmth for them and turn his lettered zeal
toward lifting them above their crippling storm.
Notes:
From To Flower (Hemphill Press First Edition, 1963).
This work is part of the portfolio “‘These Blazing Forms’: The Life and Work of Margaret Danner” from the March 2022 issue.
Source:
Poetry
(March 2022)
