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June 30th, 2016 - we have 234 poets, 8,025 poems and 315,179 comments.
Gary Soto - Saturday At The Canal

I was hoping to be happy by seventeen.
School was a sharp check mark in the roll book,
An obnoxious tuba playing at noon because our team
Was going to win at night. The teachers were
Too close to dying to understand. The hallways
Stank of poor grades and unwashed hair. Thus,
A friend and I sat watching the water on Saturday,
Neither of us talking much, just warming ourselves
By hurling large rocks at the dusty ground
And feeling awful because San Francisco was a postcard
On a bedroom wall. We wanted to go there, 
Hitchhike under the last migrating birds
And be with people who knew more than three chords
On a guitar. We didn't drink or smoke,
But our hair was shoulder length, wild when
The wind picked up and the shadows of
This loneliness gripped loose dirt. By bus or car,
By the sway of train over a long bridge,
We wanted to get out. The years froze
As we sat on the bank. Our eyes followed the water,
White-tipped but dark underneath, racing out of town.

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Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 260 times | Comments and analysis of Saturday At The Canal by Gary Soto Comments (949)

Saturday At The Canal - Comments and Information

Poet: Gary Soto
Poem: Saturday At The Canal
Volume: Home Course in Religion
Year: Published/Written in 1991
Poem of the Day: Dec 18 2007

Comment 949 of 949, added on January 1st, 2016 at 4:10 PM.
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kQwSYNeub from Lebanon
Comment 948 of 949, added on January 1st, 2016 at 3:37 PM.
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ARVWvEKWuAAZRvMCRW from Jamaica
Comment 947 of 949, added on January 1st, 2016 at 12:16 AM.
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Im1iwO

kzfluLOvjIhsldbUB from United Kingdom

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