Derek Walcott’s poem “The Gulf”

Derek Walcott’s poem “The Gulf” provides a clue as to where the speaker is. The “airport coffee” indicates that the speaker is at an airport. The second line links to the speaker’s current condition. They come across as not too becoming. They’re described as “sour” and “unshaven.” The final line of the first stanza provides further insight into the speaker’s state. They have “racked nerves”; they’re anxious and perhaps restless.

The three lines in the second stanza seem to merge the speaker’s body with the body of the airplane. The “smoky, resinous bourbon” inside the speaker might also allude to the fuel inside the plane. The mention of the “body” in the second line and the “roar” in the third line reinforces the coupling of the agonized person and the tumultuous airplane.

In the third stanza, the “exhausted soul” in the first line, the “screeching” in the second line, and the image of the speaker’s friends fading away as the plane takes off add additional evidence that the speaker’s body and the airplane have formed some kind of propulsive union.

The fourth stanza, the speaker actually mentions a “divine union” in the first line. In the second line, the speaker arguably aligns themselves with the airplane again, as they’re both “created things” and in the air. The presence of “the Texan” in the final line of the fourth stanza appears to move the poem in another direction.

The mention of “all things” compels the speaker to consider other things, like history (Lyndon B. Johnson), philosophy (the Sophocles quote about not being born), and the beautiful and violent landscape that the speaker presumably notices from their airplane window.

Using this line-by-line explanation of the first four stanzas, as well as the review of some of the poem’s key themes, one should now have enough examples to explain the remaining lines and analyze them accordingly.

Like a Winding Sheet by Ann Petry

The unnamed protagonist wakes up late, close to four o'clock in the afternoon, as he works the night shift at a plant. His wife, Mae, is also getting ready for work in a different plant, and she remarks that the bed sheet looks like a winding sheet, a shroud wrapped around the dead, and that he looks like a "'huckleberry—in a winding sheet—.'" The protagonist notes how much his legs hurt, how much it feels like he hasn't really rested them since getting home early in morning from work. Mae notices that it's Friday the 13th, and he's late for work because he has to convince her to go to work and not just stay home out of superstition. The forewoman at the plant yells at him for being late and calls him "'nigger'"; he says she has a right to yell at him but that he won't let anyone call him that word. He wants to punch her in the face, but he refrains because he doesn't hit women, and he feels the tension in his hands for hours afterward.

On the way home, he sees coworkers inside a coffee shop and witnesses how the smell and taste of the brew seems to erase the fatigue from their faces. He goes in and waits in line, but when it's his turn, the blond girl serving coffee flips her hair and says, "'No more coffee for awhile.'" It's clear to everyone that she won't serve him because he's black. Again, he wants to hit her, but he will not hit a woman. The tension remains in his hands, even worse now than before. He cannot even grip a handhold on the subway.

By the time he gets home, Mae is there. She's in a good mood, but he is not. He snaps at her a couple of times about her gum, her hair, and so on, and she teases him, saying that he's "'nothing but a old hungry nigger trying to act tough.'" Suddenly, he punches Mae in the face without really meaning to; it just happens. And then he cannot stop, and he punches her over and over, feeling as though something inside is "binding him to this act," something like a winding sheet.