My first response to this poem was, "what in the world is the point in this"? This happens to be one of the poems I do not like, not because it is a bad poem or anything, but because it is a very confusing poem that is difficult to follow and comprehend. Because it was hard to follow, "Understudy" very easily frustrated me. Personally, I prefer poems that rhyme or talk about something I am familiar with, for example: breakups, or daily stresses of a teenager, not something pertaining to death.
Lusk repeatedly mentions the arrangement of silverware. Why? What could possibly be relevant about sitting at a table arranging silverware, and why does arrangement matter? In the second section, Lusk says: "It crawls inside their cuffs and edges out again along their temples and the gothic arches of their eyebrows". What is "it"? From the previous section, it sounds as if "it" were supposed to be the silverware, but with imagery that would make no sense.
This is what frustrates me; riddles. Though Lusk may not be using riddles, he sure is not being precise about what he is talking about, and because of this I cannot stand this poem. Underlying meanings simply anger me. Instead of being obvious about the subject he is writing about, he jumps from subject to subject, expecting the reader to understand what he is trying to say. Though I do not prefer, or even like, this type of poem, I appreciate the thought and work Lusk had to put into this poem to make it different while still getting a story across.
I believe this poem is referring to death. "It" refers to age, not silverware. Sitting around arranging silverware is a matter of wasting time and marking their place in this world as they sit, awaiting their death. The old men frequently check their watches, as if they know that time is running out, and the term "belly up" refers to dying, in their case, dying with loneliness.
Overall, the point of the poem was that, ultimately, we are all understudies. At some point in time these events may happen to us, and the outcome is inevitable. Until then we can only check the time, and wonder when the hourglass will run out of sand.
Rachel, it's not just that all of us are understudies; the narrator traces his understudy role as he watches the old men who are preparing to die. And, yes, they are lonely, as our narrator seems to be.
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