Sign Inventory, Week Two

“Moving” by Jehanne Dubrow

That last night, we couldn’t find our sheets
            but lay on furniture pads and barely slept,

the metal dolly in the corner of the room,
            a monster wheeled out from the gray closet

of childhood. The world was X-Acto knives
            and packing tape, boxes that spilled their secrets.

The world was a roll of bubble wrap that popped
            like a capgun going off, each wooden crate

a coffin for our valuables, a place
            to rest the porcelain vase on its side, flat

as a body. I can’t say when I reached for you
            if we rustled like tissue paper, delicate

as shards, or if we slid our razored edges
            back and forth, until we split apart.

Sign Inventory:

• The poem, although free-verse, follows a specific pattern throughout: two line stanza’s. 
• Interestingly, the lines appear to be structured in a way that is exemplary of movement-- linking the text itself to the title of the work. 
• What’s more, the sentence structure within the poem embraces more of a long-winded, active form as opposed to very short, abrupt lines. This particular method seems more appealing because of the over-all idea being portrayed: movement
• Within the text, Dubrow’s careful use of rhetoric and diction also helps to convey a specific message; the affects of Germanic, sharp, mechanical language--consistently being used throughout--elicits a much more profound and perverse response in the reader: this notion that the narrator, in the piece, essentially grapples with is greater than just “moving,” the effects of this move constitutes hardship, a sense of barrenness, and a realm utterly unfamiliar  in several aspects.