FOUR GEOGRAPHERS FIND THE QUINTESSENTIAL BALTIMORE ROWHOUSE

There were painted screens,
two up, one down,
each  with a quiet country scene
of trees, stream, and deer,
from which to look out
onto the concrete and asphalt.
And formstone, of course

(the polyester of brick, as John Waters put it),

because even fake stone is classier
than the porous brick that sweats and weeps
behind so many Baltimore façades.
A ceramic cat clung motionless

between the two upper windows,

as if uncertain to which screen to leap,
and which deer might make a better meal.
And, there was an old woman

who came out onto her proud marble steps,
imperious in her floral house dress,

and asked “Why are you taking pitchers of my house, hon?

It’s my neighbors who’ve been causing problems.”

New poem at Kumquat Poetry

My poem "Four Geographers Find the Quintessential Baltimore Rowhouse" was published today on Kumquat Poetry's website.  The Kumquat editor described it as "delightful"-- it's a quirky little poem, much like the city in which it's set.  And, it's based on a true story.  Four of us geographers set out on a trek through Baltimore to find the quintessential Baltimore rowhouse.  Well, okay, not quite a trek.  We were four geographers who knew Baltimore very well.  We started our search in Highlandtown, walked maybe two blocks, and quickly found the house that met all the conditions we'd established:  painted screens, formstone, ceramic cat, marble steps.  The old woman in a house dress was an added bonus.    She did complain to us about her neighbors, thinking that we were from the City government sent out to investigate the complaints she'd been lodging.  When we explained we were only four geographers from the University of Maryland, she stopped for just a moment, then continued telling us about all the problems her neighbors were causing.