Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.


You have an ad blocker! We understand, but...

PoetrySoup is a small privately owned website. Our means of support comes from advertising revenue. We want to keep PoetrySoup alive, make it better, and keep it free. Please support us by disabling your ad blocker on PoetrySoup. See how to enable ads while keeping your ad blocker active. Also, did you know you can become a PoetrySoup Lifetime Premium Member and block ads forever...while getting many more great features. Take a look! Thank you!

Afternoon Rain in State Street

by
 Cross-hatchings of rain against grey walls,
Slant lines of black rain
In front of the up and down, wet stone sides of buildings.
Below, Greasy, shiny, black, horizontal, The street.
And over it, umbrellas, Black polished dots Struck to white An instant, Stream in two flat lines Slipping past each other with the smoothness of oil.
Like a four-sided wedge The Custom House Tower Pokes at the low, flat sky, Pushing it farther and farther up, Lifting it away from the house-tops, Lifting it in one piece as though it were a sheet of tin, With the lever of its apex.
The cross-hatchings of rain cut the Tower obliquely, Scratching lines of black wire across it, Mutilating its perpendicular grey surface With the sharp precision of tools.
The city is rigid with straight lines and angles, A chequered table of blacks and greys.
Oblong blocks of flatness Crawl by with low-geared engines, And pass to short upright squares Shrinking with distance.
A steamer in the basin blows its whistle, And the sound shoots across the rain hatchings, A narrow, level bar of steel.
Hard cubes of lemon Superimpose themselves upon the fronts of buildings As the windows light up.
But the lemon cubes are edged with angles Upon which they cannot impinge.
Up, straight, down, straight -- square.
Crumpled grey-white papers Blow along the side-walks, Contorted, horrible, Without curves.
A horse steps in a puddle, And white, glaring water spurts up In stiff, outflaring lines, Like the rattling stems of reeds.
The city is heraldic with angles, A sombre escutcheon of argent and sable And countercoloured bends of rain Hung over a four-square civilization.
When a street lamp comes out, I gaze at it for fully thirty seconds To rest my brain with the suffusing, round brilliance of its globe.

Poem by
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - Afternoon Rain in State StreetEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...


Top Amy Lowell Poems

Analysis and Comments on Afternoon Rain in State Street

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Afternoon Rain in State Street here.