Buy Cars and Trucks in Sun Prairie, Wisconsin

Lincoln : Mark VIII 1993 Lincoln Mark VIII, Green Coupe, Sunroof, Leather Seats
 Lincoln : Mark VIII 1993 Lincoln Mark VIII, Green Coupe, Sunroof, Leather Seats
$622.12
$1,400.00
Time Left: 3h 9m
Mitsubishi : 3000GT VR4 1999 Mitsubishi 3000GT VR4
 Mitsubishi : 3000GT VR4 1999 Mitsubishi 3000GT VR4
$11,300.00 (13 Bids)
Time Left: 6h 53m
Buick : LeSabre LIMITED 2002 ONE OWNER BUICK LESABRE LIMITED LEATHER HEATED SEATS LOADED
 Buick : LeSabre LIMITED 2002 ONE OWNER BUICK LESABRE LIMITED LEATHER HEATED SEATS LOADED
$6,900.00
Time Left: 7h 53m
Pontiac : Torrent 2006 PONTIAC TORRENT ALL WHEEL DRIVE BLACK BEAUTY MOONROOF LOADED
 Pontiac : Torrent 2006 PONTIAC TORRENT ALL WHEEL DRIVE BLACK BEAUTY MOONROOF LOADED
$8,900.00
Time Left: 7h 53m
Mazda : Mazda3 2007 Mazda 3 S Grand Touring
 Mazda : Mazda3 2007 Mazda 3 S Grand Touring
$13,995.00
Time Left: 1d 6h 16m
Chevrolet : Camaro Z28 1977 CAMARO Z28 VERY ORIGINAL COLLECTOR QUALITY SURVIVOR WITH MANUAL TRANS
 Chevrolet : Camaro Z28 1977 CAMARO Z28 VERY ORIGINAL COLLECTOR QUALITY SURVIVOR WITH MANUAL TRANS
$22,900.00
Time Left: 1d 12h 13m
Other Makes 1936 Cadillac LaSalle Coupe. Stock Original. 80 MPH
 Other Makes 1936 Cadillac LaSalle Coupe. Stock Original. 80 MPH
$39,900.00
Time Left: 2d 7h 12m
Ford : F-150 XLT ONE OWNER RED BEAUTIFUL EXTENDED CAB F-150 FORD TRUCK ERA TOPPER 73K BED SLIDE
 Ford : F-150 XLT ONE OWNER RED BEAUTIFUL EXTENDED CAB F-150 FORD TRUCK ERA TOPPER 73K BED SLIDE
$8,500.00
Time Left: 2d 20h 44m
BMW : M3 2011 BMW M3 COUPE DOUBLE CLUTCH
 BMW : M3 2011 BMW M3 COUPE DOUBLE CLUTCH
$59,999.00
Time Left: 2d 23h 24m
Lincoln : LS Beautiful 2003 Lincoln LS
 Lincoln : LS Beautiful 2003 Lincoln LS
$9,995.00
Time Left: 3d 6h 11m
Dodge : Ram 1500 This is a white cargo van ready to work
 Dodge : Ram 1500 This is a white cargo van ready to work
$2,100.00
$3,000.00
Time Left: 4d 4h 4m
Pontiac : GTO 400HP AUTOMATIC 21K MILES - RUNS AND DRIVES - Low speed accident - CLEAN TITLE - NO RESERVE
 Pontiac : GTO 400HP AUTOMATIC 21K MILES - RUNS AND DRIVES - Low speed accident - CLEAN TITLE - NO RESERVE
$7,200.00 (3 Bids)
Time Left: 4d 6h 8m
Dodge : Sprinter sprinter 3500 THIS IS WHITE DODGE SPRINTER 3500 YEAR 2004 BOX TRUCK WITH CLEAN ENGINE .
 Dodge : Sprinter sprinter 3500 THIS IS WHITE DODGE SPRINTER 3500 YEAR 2004 BOX TRUCK WITH CLEAN ENGINE .
$5,000.00
$12,500.00
Time Left: 4d 21h 20m
Mercedes-Benz : 190 Series 2.3-16V Cosworth 1987 Mercedes-Benz 190E 2.3-16V Cosworth 5-speed 1-owner 1988-2011 No Reserve!
 Mercedes-Benz : 190 Series 2.3-16V Cosworth 1987 Mercedes-Benz 190E 2.3-16V Cosworth 5-speed 1-owner 1988-2011 No Reserve!
$4,099.00 (17 Bids)
Time Left: 5d 6h 31m
Plymouth : Duster 1972 Plymouth Duster Low Reserve Must Go!!!
 Plymouth : Duster 1972 Plymouth Duster Low Reserve Must Go!!!
$2,136.00 (7 Bids)
Time Left: 6d 3h 24m
Mercedes-Benz : 560 Series CONVERTIBLE Very nice Mercedes Sl 560
 Mercedes-Benz : 560 Series CONVERTIBLE Very nice Mercedes Sl 560
$200.00
$12,000.00
Time Left: 6d 22h 37m
Volkswagen : Beetle - Classic karmann 1977 Volkswagen Beetle Convertible - Limited Edition Triple White
 Volkswagen : Beetle - Classic karmann 1977 Volkswagen Beetle Convertible - Limited Edition Triple White
$8,500.00
$8,999.00
Time Left: 7d 7h 4m
Ford : Thunderbird Convertible Thunderbird Convertible
 Ford : Thunderbird Convertible Thunderbird Convertible
$28,000.00 (0 Bids)
Time Left: 9d 11h 53m
Scion : tC 2011 Scion tC
 Scion : tC 2011 Scion tC
$26,888.00
Time Left: 9d 21h 7m
Rolls-Royce : Silver Shadow 1973 Rolls Royce Silver Shadow BEAUTIFUL CALIFORNIA CAR !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
 Rolls-Royce : Silver Shadow 1973 Rolls Royce Silver Shadow BEAUTIFUL CALIFORNIA CAR !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
$14,999.00
Time Left: 11d 22h 53m
Dodge : Coronet Super Bee 68 Dodge Coronet Super Bee Coupe 1, 000 Miles Since Restoration
 Dodge : Coronet Super Bee 68 Dodge Coronet Super Bee Coupe 1, 000 Miles Since Restoration
$49,000.00
Time Left: 13d 23h 20m
Dodge : Sprinter 2005 dodge sprinter 158" wb high roof
 Dodge : Sprinter 2005 dodge sprinter 158" wb high roof
$10,000.00
Time Left: 16d 20h 37m
Dodge : Sprinter 2006 DODGE SPRINTER 158 WB" box truck
 Dodge : Sprinter 2006 DODGE SPRINTER 158 WB" box truck
$9,000.00
Time Left: 18d 19h 59m

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Questions Related to sun, prairie cars

Provided By Y! Answers

what any and all hometown tracks do you have?
Question:
besides tracks in your hometown that nascar might go to, what other races (local) tracks do you have in town. any dirt, or short tracks? what any and all races cars race at your tracks? how often do you go to those? do any and all nascar drivers participate in any of those races at all? here is a list of tracks here in wisconsin. note: the list i have posted is a copy / paste from a website i found, unknown if all still exist, but here they are. ASPHALT OVALS 141 SPEEDWAY - FRANCIS CREEK COLUMBUS 151 SPEEDWAY - COLUMBUS DELLS MOTOR SPEEDWAY - WISCONSIN DELLS EXCALIBER MOTORSPORTS SPEEDWAY - TOMAH GOLDEN SANDS SPEEDWAY - PLOVER JEFFERSON SPEEDWAY - JEFFERSON LACROSSE FAIRGROUNDS SPEEDWAY - WEST SALEM LAKE GENEVA RACEWAY - LAKE GENEVA MADISON INTERNATIONAL SPEEDWAY - OREGON MARSHFIELD SUPER SPEEDWAY - MARSHFIELD MILWAUKEE MILE - WEST ALLIS PEPSI RACEWAY PARK - TOMAHAWK SLINGER SUPER SPEEDWAY - SLINGER (i like this track) STATE PARK SPEEDWAY - WAUSAU WISCONSIN INTERNATIONAL RACEWAY - KAUKAUNA DIRT OVALS ABC RACEWAY - ASHLAND ANGELL PARK SPEEDWAY - SUN PRAIRIE CALUMET COUNTY SPEEDWAY - CHILTON CEDAR LAKE SPEEDWAY - NEW RICHMOND CHARTER RACEWAY PARK - BEAVER DAM DODGE COUNTY FAIRGROUNDS SPEEDWAY - BEAVER DAM EAGLE VALLEY SPEEDWAY - JIM FALLS FOX RIDGE SPEEDWAY - ARCADIA GRANT COUNTY SPEEDWAY - LANCASTER KOPELLAH SPEEDWAY - CENTURIA LAFAYETTE COUNTY SPEEDWAY - DARLINGTON LANGLADE COUNTY SPEEDWAY - ANTIGO LUXEMBURG SPEEDWAY - LUXEMBURG MANITOWOC COUNTY EXPO SPEEDWAY - MANITOWOC MONSTER HALL RACEWAY - UNITY OSHKOSH SPEEDZONE - OSHKOSH RED CEDAT SPEEDWAY - MENOMONIE RICE LAKE SPEEDWAY - RICE LAKE RIVERSIDE RACEWAY - EAGLE RIVER SEYMOUR SPEEDWAY - SEYMOUR SHAWANO SPEEDWAY - SHAWANO SHEBOYGAN COUNTY FAIR PARK - PLYMOUTH SUPERIOR SPEEDWAY - SUPERIOR THUNDERHILL RACEWAY - STURGEON BAY TNT SPEEDWAY - THREE LAKES WILMOT SPEEDWAY - WILMOT DRAG STRIPS GREAT LAKES DRAGWAY - UNION GROVE ROCK FALLS RACEWAY - EAU CLAIRE WISCONSIN INTERNATIONAL RACEWAY - KAUKAUNA ROAD COURSES ROADS AMERICA - ELKHART LAKE

Answer:
Some racetracks within an hour or so of my front door: Concord Speedway, Hickory Motor Speedway, Caraway Speedway, Lancaster Speedway, Mooresville Dragway, Farmington Dragway, High Rock Raceway, ZMax Dragway, Lowe's Motor Speedway, and Carolina Speedway. Little further out is Rockingham, Shadyside Dragway, Jefferson Pageland Dragstrip, Carolina Motorsports Park, Friendship Speedway, I-77 Speedway, East Lincoln Speedway, and probably a few others I forgot to mention.

Need help understanding Margaret Atwood's "The Immigrants"!!?
Question:
Here is the poem: They are allowed to inherit the sidewalks involved as palmlines, bricks exhausted and soft, the deep lawnsmells, orchards whorled to the land’s contours, the inflected weather only to be told they are too poor to keep it up, or someone has noticed and wants to kill them; or the towns pass laws which declare them obsolete. I see them coming up from the hold smelling of vomit, infested, emaciated, their skins grey with travel; as they step on shore the old countries recede, become perfect, thumbnail castles preserved like gallstones in a glass bottle, the towns dwindle upon the hillsides in a light paperweight-clear. They carry their carpetbags and trunks with clothes, dishes, the family pictures; they think they will make an order like the old one, sow miniature orchards, carve children and flocks out of wood but always they are too poor, the sky is flat, the green fruit shrivels in the prairie sun, wood is for burning; and if they go back, the towns in time have crumbled, their tongues stumble among awkward teeth, their ears are filled with the sound of breaking glass. I wish I could forget them and so forget myself: my mind is a wide pink map across which move year after year arrows and dotted lines, further and further, people in railway cars their heads stuck out of the windows at stations, drinking milk or singing, their features hidden with beards or shawls day and night riding across an ocean of unknown land to an unknown land. My current interpretation of this poem is that the immigrants leave their home and try to recreate it but they fail to do so because they do not have the money and now they are continually travelling to the "unknown" things i don't understand: - "inflected weather" in the 1st stanza - "or someone has noticed and wants to kill them" 2nd stanza - "prairie sun" 6th stanza - "their tongues stumble among awkward teeth, their ears are filled with the sound of breaking glass" 7th stanza as you can see im quite stupid :P could anyone please help me with understanding this poem because it seems interesting and i'd like to know what it is about! lots of thanks in advance!! please tell me if theres anything wrong or anything i could add to my interpretation so far... although it is quite short. by the way i also don't understand the part "I wish I could forget them and so forget myself" in the 7th stanza. I've read this poem a few times through already and i still don't get it :(

Answer:
Look up The Night of Broken Glass (Nazi Germany) Krystallnacht. I believe she is referring to Jewish immigrants - also the cattle cars in which Jews were transported to the concentration camps. Jews throughout history have been scapegoats and if noticed could indeed be killed - look up pogroms.

Can anybody explain this metaphor found in Margaret Atwood's poem "The Immigrants"?
Question:
Here is the poem: The Immigrants by Margaret Atwood They are allowed to inherit the sidewalks involved as palmlines, bricks exhausted and soft, the deep lawnsmells, orchards whorled to the land’s contours, the inflected weather only to be told they are too poor to keep it up, or someone has noticed and wants to kill them; or the towns pass laws which declare them obsolete. I see them coming up from the hold smelling of vomit, infested, emaciated, their skins grey with travel; as they step on shore the old countries recede, become perfect, thumbnail castles preserved like gallstones in a glass bottle, the towns dwindle upon the hillsides in a light paperweight-clear. They carry their carpetbags and trunks with clothes, dishes, the family pictures; they think they will make an order like the old one, sow miniature orchards, carve children and flocks out of wood but always they are too poor, the sky is flat, the green fruit shrivels in the prairie sun, wood is for burning; and if they go back, the towns in time have crumbled, their tongues stumble among awkward teeth, their ears are filled with the sound of breaking glass. I wish I could forget them and so forget myself: my mind is a wide pink map across which move year after year arrows and dotted lines, further and further, people in railway cars their heads stuck out of the windows at stations, drinking milk or singing, their features hidden with beards or shawls day and night riding across an ocean of unknown land to an unknown land. I was wondering if anybody could help me understand the metaphor "my mind is a wide pink map"... why is Atwood comparing her mind to a map? Any help is appreciated! Thanks!

Answer:
The map is the author's memories of immigrants set on a time scale. This chronology, this history is pink, because it represents human flesh, human beings. She remembers those families from the first year, then the little boy, the little girl from the next. She remembers their arrivals and their departures. The immigrants are allowed to stay a while, but then told to move on by the town. The author identifies with being a member of the town, and wishes to forget her own involvement in constantly sending these people away, constantly being a member of the good who remain silent.

Could someone help me understand parts of this poem?
Question:
This poem by margaret atwood is called The Immigrants: They are allowed to inherit the sidewalks involved as palmlines, bricks exhausted and soft, the deep lawnsmells, orchards whorled to the land’s contours, the inflected weather only to be told they are too poor to keep it up, or someone has noticed and wants to kill them; or the towns pass laws which declare them obsolete. I see them coming up from the hold smelling of vomit, infested, emaciated, their skins grey with travel; as they step on shore the old countries recede, become perfect, thumbnail castles preserved like gallstones in a glass bottle, the towns dwindle upon the hillsides in a light paperweight-clear. They carry their carpetbags and trunks with clothes, dishes, the family pictures; they think they will make an order like the old one, sow miniature orchards, carve children and flocks out of wood but always they are too poor, the sky is flat, the green fruit shrivels in the prairie sun, wood is for burning; and if they go back, the towns in time have crumbled, their tongues stumble among awkward teeth, their ears are filled with the sound of breaking glass. I wish I could forget them and so forget myself: my mind is a wide pink map across which move year after year arrows and dotted lines, further and further, people in railway cars their heads stuck out of the windows at stations, drinking milk or singing, their features hidden with beards or shawls day and night riding across an ocean of unknown land to an unknown land. The parts i do not understand are: - someone has noticed and wants to kill them (2nd stanza) - I wish I could forget them and so forget myself ( 7th stanza) - like gallstones in a glass bottle (4th stanza - why does she use gallstones to describe the memories?) thanks in advance! @Michael what do you mean by "it just becomes an old curiousity"?

Answer:

Comments thoughts about STORY?
Question:
The Love Story  Chapter 1 Remembrance Prologue It was a love story, if you place it in that assumption. A real, real true love story. It was as real as love can ever possibly prosper to as. It had moments of compassion and value, and vivid summer mornings as well. It was everything that grandpa had ever said it would be.  It really was that one perfect summer time that defied the rest of the seasons, including the holidays. Was there not any other feeling more desirable in my entire life? Could there? Was there? Possibly not. The feeling itself consumed my being forever more. It was not a spell or curse nor any other wicked plague of any sort…But it was a spell nonetheless. It was the spell of supplication and compassion, excitement and enjoyment. It was the spell of love and value, and nothing more, and nothing less. Yet I myself did not want anything else. Not a sample of reason, not a taste of truth. Did it matter anyway? Not at the time it didn’t. It matters not, in all honesty, it matters not. Within those summer days, I knew then what I know now, what I cherish now. I knew the real meaning of emotion and value, there was no doubt. There could not possibly be any doubt. But where should I begin? Where can I possibly begin, this tale, this fantasy of mine? I really shouldn’t name it a fantasy, but more of a story, yes, yes this story if I may. I myself believe we all have our own adventure once we fall in love. It’s an adventure that engraves each other with feelings of understood curiosity. It’s simply a love story to begin with…     I was four when my mother left me at my grandparents house. It was a very calm afternoon, not too bright, not too hot. I laid there in the back seat of my mother’s vehicle asleep while she drove up to Everside Valley. -My mother, she was a red haired woman with shiny jewelry on her wrist, and a cough as deep and loud as the engine itself.  She drove with one hand, and smoked a cigarette with the other. Just like a real small town driver. The same bumpy road rocked me asleep a few hours ago, yet woke me up the same. Jagged bumps rocked the car from side to side, as if driving upon a wide open sea. I woke up almost suddenly, no tears, no sound, just calm. The dim sun was shining its way through the windows now, like when a new dawn shines its way through am open forest. I remember then looking among the window and noticing how enormous the country side was. Astonish and dumb struck would be two words to describe my excitement at the moment. Yet it was not like I burst in words or sound just then, but with my sleepy eyes, as they grew and slid opened wider. It seemed like the entire yellow prairie outside my window was alive, so very alive! Dancing with the wind, letting summer clouds and summer winds lead the dance first. The area was amazing and the day seemed so calm and steady, and safe. The clouds looked so very amazing, they were dim and gray around the entire valley road, and the sun was shining perfectly at the center. Like the center of a hurricane, -without a storm, just beauty. Yet a sudden stop occurred almost instantly, followed by a shuffling of papers. My mother pulled out a pen and paper that she found in her purse. Started writing. Then gave me a small note and scooted me out side the car door. Like anyone would if they were trying to scoot a spider, or an ant, or any other small bother. She then told me to keep walking… -just keep walking down the road, and knock once I reach a house. Her voice, sounded disturbed and annoyed. Standing outside, I looked to see where I was. I saw nothing. Just a mailbox next to a wooden fence, and a dirt road against an old tree. She then told me again in more of a haste: “Jeremy start walking” then added on a few moments later by saying: “Jeremy, Mommy needs to clean the car, keep walking I’ll be right behind you. Don’t look back sweetie. Just keep walking.” But could there have been any other choice? Was there nothing else was I destined to do but walk? Yet I trusted her, and I loved her. And if it meant walking all day and night, then I would, just to let her know I’m always behind her eyes. So I kept walking…just kept walking down the dirt covered road, silent, and never asking why. I had no problem with it, none at all. It was a normal walk just like any other. I would walk in front this time, to lead the way like a new adventure, that’s all, just a slight difference. I walked so very calm because I knew she would be right there walking behind my little tiny dirt steps.     I later realized that she never really was behind me. She had a banded me, and I would not admit it. I searched the entire house for her, -and only her. Opening and closing doors after doors over the years.  Trying to find an answer…trying to find a reason. But that was the only time I can remember my mother, the rest before were only forgotten memories, missing pieces left unsolved.     A few years passed by, and I grew and prospered with my

Answer:
It's probably not best to start with the protagonists childhood and/or life's story. Better to bring it up later, as part of their back story.

How do you keep an apartment cool in the summer?
Question:
Here's the story of my apartment, the nitty gritty to follow. It's basically a mother in law suite above a 4 car garage. So, there are no trees on the driveway side (east) and only one in the back (west), as the home is situated next to a prairie preserve. Therefore, I'm living in a brick oven. It does have central air, which doesn't really seem to help. Here are the tricks I have tried: Closing the blinds AND curtains on all windows. I have a fan pulling cold air from the newly cleaned vents (my landlords had the people come suck all of the dust, etc out of them), and I have my bathroom fan going to suck out hot air. I haven't been turning on lights and have kept appliance use to a minimum (haven't even cooked). Aside from moving to a cooler place, does anyone have any other tips I could try? If this gives you any indication: it got to 93 outside--hot and muggy, and when I Ieft the apartment at 3:30 this afternoon, it was 83 in here. Now that it's midnight and I've come home, it's down to 79, when it's still 81 out. I'm guessing there is no insulation between my apartment and the garage below me. Just a hunch. It's ok in the morning, but as soon as the late afternoon sun hits the west side of the house, things heat up fast. Sorry so long--any other tricks are much appreciated!

Answer:
the curtain trick is a good one but are they thick dark curtains you have up? they have to be dark to work. they do this at greenhouses to keep the plants from getting to hot and frying they take black material and spread it over the top the only other thing i could suggest is an air conditioner

Long form, prose inspired poem in need of c/c?
Question:
I wrote this is a poetic summary of a character study I created a few months back - looking for any feedback. Triumph On he drives across the prairies, As the highway winds its way through fields of fire on an endless trek towards the ever-distant horizon. Golden wheat rows meld beautifully with the orange of the sun. Soon, night will lay down its blanket across the sky. Then, like a chorus of playful fairies, the borealis will dance through the heavens. He misses it all. Alone, he drives. Eyes red from tears that refuse to ebb their flow, he drives. Hands shaking, a body wracked in the grip of sorrow, he drives. A bottle of Johnny Walker lays precariously on the passenger seat, gently rocking back and forth. Half empty, its contents call to him, siren strong. His eyes dart between it and the road. His grip tightens on the wheel. Unable to resist, he succumbs. His throat bobs as the liquid washes warm sympathy through his tired frame. It promised to help him forget his pain, but it only made the memory all the clearer. Bruce Springsteen wails from the radio. He sings of all the good things about home. The tune is too depressing. He flicks the knob quickly. A commercial for zoom-zoom. Again. Willy Nelson. Again. Heavy metal pagans screaming about social injustices. Again. Weather report. Disgusted, he turns the thing off. So many miles have been covered. He does not know how long he’s traveled, barely able to remember from whence he started. He only knows, only acknowledges, that he must go on. A rabbit skitters across his path, causing a sudden stop. Skidding over the pavement, barely maintaining control, the vehicle comes to rest. The sudden rush of adrenaline causes the memories to crash through his protective levees, The pain is unbearable. Sweat rises from panic-stricken pores. He raises his hands to his head, desperately trying to calm the screaming from with his thoughts. A deep convulsion ripples through his body. The tide swells. Anguish threatens to overwhelm. Coughing sullenly and giving himself a shake, he puts the car in gear. With a lions purr, the machine moves again. his journey begins anew. They say the mountains are beautiful this time of year. Thanks once again everyone.

Answer:
Very good for a first draft (I assume it is). You use some nice imagery and language construction. I'd recommend streamlining it a bit in order to avoid coming off as overly repetitious, which you do at points. Use a little more show to illustrate that your protagonist is in pain, instead of just telling us. That being said, I do like it - are you going to post the second draft when completed?

Need help understanding Margaret Atwood's "The Immigrants"!!?
Question:
Here is the poem: They are allowed to inherit the sidewalks involved as palmlines, bricks exhausted and soft, the deep lawnsmells, orchards whorled to the land’s contours, the inflected weather only to be told they are too poor to keep it up, or someone has noticed and wants to kill them; or the towns pass laws which declare them obsolete. I see them coming up from the hold smelling of vomit, infested, emaciated, their skins grey with travel; as they step on shore the old countries recede, become perfect, thumbnail castles preserved like gallstones in a glass bottle, the towns dwindle upon the hillsides in a light paperweight-clear. They carry their carpetbags and trunks with clothes, dishes, the family pictures; they think they will make an order like the old one, sow miniature orchards, carve children and flocks out of wood but always they are too poor, the sky is flat, the green fruit shrivels in the prairie sun, wood is for burning; and if they go back, the towns in time have crumbled, their tongues stumble among awkward teeth, their ears are filled with the sound of breaking glass. I wish I could forget them and so forget myself: my mind is a wide pink map across which move year after year arrows and dotted lines, further and further, people in railway cars their heads stuck out of the windows at stations, drinking milk or singing, their features hidden with beards or shawls day and night riding across an ocean of unknown land to an unknown land. My current interpretation of this poem is that the immigrants leave their home and try to recreate it but they fail to do so because they do not have the money and now they are continually travelling to the "unknown" could anyone please help me with understanding this poem because it seems interesting and i'd like to know what it is about! lots of thanks in advance!! please tell me if theres anything wrong or anything i could add to my interpretation so far... although it is quite short.

Answer:
Let's see.... The first two stanzas refer to the situation in the home country, right? Immigrants "inherit" the land (often in a city ghetto) from their parents... but then find that because of various political persecutions, they are "declared obsolete." As a result they must leave, immigrate. You're right about the next four stanzas (stanzas 3 to 6). These describe how the immigrants arrive in the new country, planning on recreating their old homes in a new land, but how that becomes impossible. One reason for this is that almost immediately, their memories of the old countries start to shrink, diminish. Stanza 7 describes the experience of the immigrant returning for a visit to his or her homeland, only to discover that they no longer fit in ... the towns have "crumbled" and the returnees tongues feel "clumsy" ... they are no longer 100% comfortable in their home language. In this stanza and throughout the poem, Atwood suggests that the fate of the immigrant is to LOSE the home country. To FORGET.... And she wishes that she too could forget that immigrant past, but in her mind, the image of those rejected, hopeful people, exiled from their ancestral homes, hurtling towards a new land that where everything will change, where so much will be lost ... the poem finishes with that powerful image of a plunge into the unknown ... traveling through unknown land on their way to an unknown land ... In other words, immigrants adapt to a new home by forgetting their old ...and that makes them more comfortable, but for the speaker (the poet, the historian), this act of forgetting is impossible, and she is stuck with this image of the exiled travelers in her head ...

Need help understanding Margaret Atwood's "The Immigrants"!!?
Question:
Here is the poem: They are allowed to inherit the sidewalks involved as palmlines, bricks exhausted and soft, the deep lawnsmells, orchards whorled to the land’s contours, the inflected weather only to be told they are too poor to keep it up, or someone has noticed and wants to kill them; or the towns pass laws which declare them obsolete. I see them coming up from the hold smelling of vomit, infested, emaciated, their skins grey with travel; as they step on shore the old countries recede, become perfect, thumbnail castles preserved like gallstones in a glass bottle, the towns dwindle upon the hillsides in a light paperweight-clear. They carry their carpetbags and trunks with clothes, dishes, the family pictures; they think they will make an order like the old one, sow miniature orchards, carve children and flocks out of wood but always they are too poor, the sky is flat, the green fruit shrivels in the prairie sun, wood is for burning; and if they go back, the towns in time have crumbled, their tongues stumble among awkward teeth, their ears are filled with the sound of breaking glass. I wish I could forget them and so forget myself: my mind is a wide pink map across which move year after year arrows and dotted lines, further and further, people in railway cars their heads stuck out of the windows at stations, drinking milk or singing, their features hidden with beards or shawls day and night riding across an ocean of unknown land to an unknown land. My current interpretation of this poem is that the immigrants leave their home and try to recreate it but they fail to do so because they do not have the money and now they are continually travelling to the "unknown" could anyone please help me with understanding this poem because it seems interesting and i'd like to know what it is about! lots of thanks in advance!! please tell me if theres anything wrong or anything i could add to my interpretation so far... although it is quite short.

Answer:
my understanding is this: Back when there was not much commerce, lands were inherited through out generation and supported their families by selling their vegetables and ground grown foods to small businesses, until laws about taxation ruined everything by commercing and international trades, which meant these people did not have the money to keep up with their means of getting money (plantations) because bigger companies were succeeding. Now they had to sell and move on, travel to another country in which they would start again...going from one place to the other. they finally come back and see that the rural lands have become urban territory and houses have been built in the lands.