"Stupid"

It's what the kids nowadays call weed. And it drifts
like clouds from his lips. He hopes no one
comes along tonight, or calls to ask for help.
Help is what he's most short on tonight.
A storm thrashes outside. Heavy seas
with gale winds from the west. The table he sits at
is, say, two cubits long and one wide.
The darkness in the room teems with insight.
Could be he'll write an adventure novel. Or else
a children's story. A play for two female characters,
one of whom is blind. Cutthroat should be coming
into the river. One thing he'll do is learn
to tie his own flies. Maybe he should give
more money to each of his surviving
family members. The ones who already expect a little
something in the mail first of each month.
Every time they write they tell him
they're coming up short. He counts heads on his fingers
and finds they're all survivng. So what
if he'd rather be remembered in the dreams of strangers?
He raises his eyes to the skylights where rain
hammers on. After a while --
who knows how long? -- his eyes ask
that they be closed. And he closes them.
But the rain keeps hammering. Is this a cloudburst?
Should he do something? Secure the house
in some way? Uncle Bo stayed married to Aunt Ruby for 47 years. Then hanged himself.
He opens his eyes again. Nothing adds up.
It all adds up. How long will this storm go on?

This poem is about a troubled boy who turns to marijuana for all of his problems and anxiety. The boy seems to be deeply disturbed, lonely, depressed, and suicidal. The boy  then looks at the people around him such as his aunt and uncle and sees their relationship and how long it lasted but at the same time he focuses on how his uncle killed himself and ended their marriage. The boy does not care to be remembered by his family but would rather be remembered by strangers. Then the boy contemplates what to do with his money before he goes. Should he give it to his family members or give it people who are less fortunate and already collect their money on the first of the month? There isn’t much known about Carver’s childhood when it comes to abuse by his alcoholic father but Carver may have experienced these same thoughts as a child. Carver’s alcoholism in a early stage of his life was a reason to numb the feelings he had as a young man and those same feelings may have lingered early in his childhood. This poem could have very well been written about Carver’s adult life but in the mind of a boy to reveal innocence and a need for someone to help. Carver had a troubled adult life with the alcoholism, troubled marriage with almost killing his wife, and some subtle psychological problems such as depression and anxiety. Carver may have considered these possibilities that are in this poem. For example, he may have considered if he took his own life, where would he give his money to or how would the lives around him be affected. This poem is possibly about Carver’s adult life or child life but the overall question that he has is how long will it last?