xsoulangiana, the magnolia
for years hugged
brownstone back bay streets
in her endless canopy of
rich pink & milk-white.
in spring her housecoat would spread
shading sidewalks of
seven commonwealth avenue
carpeting concrete with
bruised petals.
in wind, in storms her knotty arms
& arthritic fingers gently entreated
for a glass of warm milk
in the night.
what good is a magnolia?
what good when…
she taps in the night
when her branches sully
panes of glass &
when she blocks out sunlight &
what can a landlord do but
yield to inconvenienced tenants?
good pruning leaves
few traces, leaves
no stubs, but this was
a hatchet job,
an assault,
a tragedy?
a woman called China
shakes her paper fists
& curses
her moo-moo trembling
like a pastel ocean.
xsoulangiana, the tree
who brought solace
to so many,
my heart is broken.
there are no words,
mr. landlord,
for the ugliness
you have brought
upon our city.
I’m afraid you do not respect the tears
of people who love trees
Author notes
You can pronounce xsoulangiana any way you like...I think it looks nice. I'd pronounce it soul-angiana.
This is based on a true story, which was mostly farcical.
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