I quit my job that Saturday when I heard my name called by the manager.1 That motherfucker always
looked at me like I was running drugs for some cartel or there was a stain on my pants after coming
from the bathroom. Two months ago,2 I was drunk3 in New York with an au pair who was studying to be
a fashion photographer. She was ordering coffee in Harlem when she dropped her change. The barista wrote
her name—“Alizée” with two Es—on the rim of her latte. That was about the same time the energy embargo
began. Her English was better than my French, but in a moment of relaxation, I offer to pay for her
drink. It was the least I could do. In my mind, I was hearing myself say, Let me pay for your hot drink but what
came out was Je suis chaud. And to think I walked in to ask directions. I was already late for my meeting.
As I placed my card on the counter she asked, “What do you mean?”4 Photographers see the world differently5
from the rest of us.6 To you and me a day is just a day, but to them,7 it is a gathering of time or more
accurately of light. The same light Plato speaks about in the cave. In an hour from now,8 we would be sat
by the window9 talking about migrants cast adrift on flimsy rafts and what Kubrick’s 2001 would have been
like if it had been directed by Orson Welles as her third latte cools off. Behind me white clouds gathered
before the thunderclaps. Alizée was taking pictures while flicking her black hair behind her ears. The next
thing I knew, in a moment that I thought was mine, we were in the back of a taxi.10 Someone had left
an issue of Newsweek on the seat, opened to page 11. This is where the mythology begins. What do you
want to know? That her name means trade wind. Or that a painter can use a myth to reinvent what has
happened before. In the same way that we played two jazz cassettes on repeat in her hotel room while
making love, only resurfacing for room service and to purchase scalped Dave Chappelle tickets at a
comedy club in Soho on Friday. I’d be lying if I did not admit we were playing with death. Exchanging
what we owned with what we didn’t own. It was the nature of recovering what was lost until she left for Paris.
1I have retreated like this before as though life were
a vessel chartered for a distant coast.
2Didn’t you notice this new decade lengthening
as I woke before birds migrating seaward?
3It is not yet summer, and you know next to nothing
about me, except the old story.
4I mean, don’t leave me to this earth the way
the wind does, unwinding its portion above us.
5There is not a combination of sound and shadow
that I can solidify, that describes my privacies.
6That includes you, reader: there is no word for forget,
only leaving and even that is a song. Selah!
7Coming from a point-and-shoot neighborhood,
I am looked at from all sides. Ask Caleb.
8To survive I find ways to make the earth move,
a persistent rain follows me in the black car.
9My eyes can’t keep pace with the motorbike picking
up speed. Brake lights have the same motion.
10The things that abandon you in the front seat.
After reading this poem and comparing it to the title, it may seem like there is no correlation to Icarus, the legend from Greek Mythology at all. However, when you look at the meaning of the symbols in the text, the significance of Icarus in this poem becomes much more clear.
The myth of Icarus in Greek mythology speaks of a child who was in jail with his father, and desperately needed to escape, but in order to escape, he must somehow evade the very tall wall surrounding the prison. His father thinks of a plan, creating wings for the boy using bird feathers and wax. When they are completed, he warns his son not to fly too close to the sun, because the wax could end up melting, destroying his wings. When Icarus finally escapes, he forgets the warning from his father, and ends up flying up very high into the sky. Like his father warned, the wax ends up melting, dropping Icarus from the sky into the ocean, leaving him to drown. The tale of Icarus is often interpreted as going to whatever limits necessary in order to achieve a goal or achievement.
In this poem, Makoha starts by talking about how he quit his job, then talks about how he meets a French photographer on his way to a meeting at a cafe. They end up hitting it off immediately, and they take things to a more intimate level in her hotel room. The first main symbol would be his previous job. Connecting this to the tale of Icarus, we can see this poem as a story following his abandonment of worldly affairs and starting to pursue his own self-interest. His previous job can be seen as the world of disdain that he knew, demanding many responsibilities from him. Him quitting his job can be seen as him leaving the world in order to pursue his own desires. Alizee, the French photographer is the main catalyst for change in his life. Not only does he meet her after quitting, but he appears very human around her. He offers to pay for her drink in French, but ends up blurting out “Je suis chaud”, meaning I am hot, or I am warm– even foreshadowing their future actions that will take place in her hotel room. This simple language mistake catches her attention, causing the two to bond, blooming a relationship as an effect. Another example of humanity in this scene would be the detail that he was on his way to a meeting, and ran into Alizee when he was asking for directions. Him being late to the meeting is another accident. We can already see that after quitting his job, the speaker is becoming more human, being more open to making mistakes. This leads us to believe that the photographer, Alizee, is symbolic of change, as she is the main catalyst of the change that Makoha experiences. Makoha explains that “Photographers see the world differently” (Makoha 17-18). He then says that a regular day to anyone else is a “gathering of time or more accurately of light” (Makoha 19-20). This shows us both the fluidity and importance of time, as exemplified when it is revealed that Alizee had finished 3 lattes by the time they finished talking. While they talk, Makoha writes that white clouds gather and thunder claps behind him.
I feel as though the setting in this poem is very important as well. At first, the setting is in a cafe. This cafe is full of people, and can tell us that Makoha was still attached to the demanding world– likely regretting his decision to quit his job in an effort of pursuing his own interests. However as the two enter the taxi and eventually go to the hotel, they become increasingly secluded. At the end of the poem, Makoha is at the epitome of seclusion, as Alizee has left him to go home to Paris. The amount of people that are around Makoha can be seen as the ones that worry him. At the beginning of the poem, he is worried about everyone that is around him, but by the end of the poem, he only worries about himself.
