Get out the microscope, because we’re going through this poem line-by-line.
Lines 4-6
in their chairs, the most serious of them all
said it was his car,
being in it alone, his tape deck playing
- This new stanza starts off with more enjambment, as well as an image of the students in their chairs.
- Line 5, in the middle of the stanza, is once again indented—just like with stanza 1. The indented line in this case is placing an emphasis on the most serious student, who finally breaks this awkward tension by naming his sacred space: "his car."
- In fact, the poem has carefully placed these two lines (2 and 5) parallel with each other. They're both the indented lines, and they seem to be mirroring each other. The sacred place highlighted in line 2 is the student's car, also highlighted in the indented line 5. (Check out "Form and Meter" for more on how this poem is put together.)
- Hold up: a car? That's not exactly what you'd expect to be a sacred space. Churches, graveyards, chapels, locations of miracles—sure, those are all sacred. But your high school ride? Sacred? We can tell you, Shmoopers, the hooptie we pushed around in high school was pretty far from sacred. We'll have to see if this gets explained.
- Luckily, in line 6 this serious student describes his sacred place: when he's in his car alone and he's listening to music on his tape deck, maybe like this. Actually, we're kidding, but this guy isn't joking, right?
- He's serious, remember, not the class clown, so the speaker of the poem (whoever that is—it's not clear at this point) must want us to take what the student is saying seriously.
- That brings us to another point this poem seems to be making. Although the teacher asks about something heavy-handed, like "the sacred," the answer he gets is about something regular. And let's face it, poetry is sometimes thought of as a really important, almost unattainable subject, but so far, this poem couldn't be more regular. We have a teacher, some students, and a discussion of driving around. We also call that the quotidian, which is a fancy way of saying "stuff that happens every day"—like brushing your teeth (at least it should), or driving.
- Line 6 also starts something new. We don't want to get too grammar textbook on you, but here we get two participial phrases. See the –ing words? Those are present participles, or descriptive phrases that describe the student in his car.
- So, why is that important? Well, a slight shift has occurred, and this creates a more immediate feeling to the poem, as if we're in the class, in the car, and in the sacred place with the student. We were in the past tense in stanza 1, but now we're getting into the present tense.
- The effect is sort of like changing gears in a car. You can even imagine each stanza as another gear if you want. As the poem is starting to move, just like a car down the road, the rhythmic momentum of the lines is building, the wheels are turning, and the poem is shifting from first to second gear (or first to second stanza). And just like this poem, we're gonna move on now. Beep, beep! (Sorry—we had to.)