The first line in this poem, says Everything crawls-the green black walls is good concrete language. It grabbed my attention at first because I could just picture the destruction and how the moldy green and black walls were crawling. Then the poem goes back to using this line in the middle of the poem but this time she says, Everything crawls. The drooped ceiling through soft splintered slats.
Reading this poem made me kind of sad having never been through such a disaster before. I couldn't imagine coming back to your house after a hurricane and seeing everything that has been destroyed. Patricia Smith begs her new history to hold still, she doesn't want to let go of what she had and start over but there is absolutely no choice. Everything is destroyed and time must start again.
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