Eight Line Poem

Many of David Bowie’s lyrics are opaque, but Eight Line Poem does not even merit a title that gives a clue to its meaning. Maybe there is no literal interpretation, but for me, this poem is about life in the city and the growing urbanisation of modern life.

Here’s the actual lyrics to Eight Line Poem:

The tactful cactus by your window
Surveys the prairie of your room
The mobile spins to it’s collision
Clara puts her head between her paws
They’ve opened shops, down on the Westside
Will all the cacti find a home?
But the key to the city is in the sun
That pins the branches to the sky

And here’s my personal, less poetic interpretation, which runs to just seven lines …

An empty room, with a plant on the windowsill
The sound of a car crash in the distance
My cat, oblivious, puts her head between her paws

The city is becoming more about commerce
There’s less room for the city dwellers to live their lives
But the heart of the city is still
The life within it.

I really love Eight Line Poem. I don’t know of any other popular artist other than David Bowie who could have pulled it off. Tucked in between the twin classics of “Oh! You Pretty Things” and “Life on Mars”, Bowie’s exaggerated country crooning of “Will all the cactii find a home?” against Mike Ronson’s restrained but soulful guitar really is a unique and succinct contribution to probably Bowie’s best album, Hunky Dory.