A Plane Crashes Into Mother

[Owlster Bierce]

Her rawhide whip whirls in the kitchen air
as a self-righteous cow looks with disapproval
at the leather-clad milkman and madness
just inside the door.

Mom's smiley face dims the sunrise
on days like this. With my report card in hand,
she ransacks mementos sent by dad
for a pen to initial grades of failure.

Joe, the plumber, pulls into the driveway,
readies his snake and plunger,
but they'll remain unsoiled.
Our neighbor will never finish mowing his lawn.

A cat shrieks. Sparrows splatter against potted plants.
Mom's sewing machine bursts,
sends needles flying through the house
as the Cessna's fuel explodes, turns my sisters

into single-parent children. I get shipped
to Michigan to live in a house areek with
Ancient Age and a piano in decomposition
beneath a framed oil
of deer fleeing trees aflame.

[rowens]

I want to read this awhile, and maybe again tomorrow if I get asked to leave the house, which will happen soon. I've read it a few times, it needs to be read more. So far, I think a comma after plumber might work.

[billy]

i really like this but i have one problem, is it real or is the fiction of the young child within the poem. either way i'd like to see it made a little clearer. the last two stanza make me think it's not a fantasy but i'd still like to be solid in that belief.

thanks for the read.

Her rawhide whip whirls in the kitchen air
as a self-righteous cow looks with disapproval
at the leather-clad milkman and madness
just inside the door.

Mom's smiley face dims the sunrise
on days like this. With my report card in hand
she ransacks mementos sent by dad
for a pen to initial grades of failure. i think this stanza has some great images

Joe, the plumber pulls into the driveway,
readies his snake and plunger,
but they'll remain unsoiled.
Our neighbor'll never finish mowing his lawn. for me neighbor'll doesn't work as well as [neighbor will]

A cat shrieks. Sparrows splatter against potted plants.
Mom's sewing machine bursts,
sends needles flying through the house
as the Cessna's fuel explodes, turns my sisters

into single-parent children. I get shipped
to Michigan to live in a house areek with
Ancient Age and a piano in decomposition
beneath a framed oil
of deer fleeing trees aflame.

[Owlster Bierce]

Thanks for reading, Rowens. A comma should probably go after "plumber." Maybe after "hand" in the strope above that one, too.

---

Thanks, Billy. This is fiction. I was inspired to write it after viewing Salvador Dali paintings online for an hour or so. I'll change to 'neighbor will.'

[billy]

no owlster, i think you miss my point, is it the fiction of the boy in the poem or did it fictionally happen to the boy in the poem. (i take all poetry as works of fiction )

[Owlster Bierce]

It happened to the boy in the poem. I picture this poem as a Dali painting. A lot of his paintings have a lot going on in them.

[rowens]

I read it and think of things I'd do differently, but it's not my poem. And the way you've done it, your way, is nothing to complain about. I read it each time imagining the scene from my own point of view, how I'd describe it, but that means you've painted a good enough picture for me to do that.

[Nick]

Her rawhide whip whirls in the kitchen air
as a self-righteous cow looks with disapproval
at the leather-clad milkman and madness
just inside the door.

Mom's smiley face dims the sunrise
on days like this. With my report card in hand,
she ransacks mementos sent by dad
for a pen to initial grades of failure.

Joe, the plumber, pulls into the driveway,
readies his snake and plunger,
but they'll remain unsoiled.
Our neighbor will never finish mowing his lawn.

A cat shrieks. Sparrows splatter against potted plants.
Mom's sewing machine bursts,
sends needles flying through the house
as the Cessna's fuel explodes, turns my sisters

into single-parent children. I get shipped
to Michigan to live in a house areek with
Ancient Age and a piano in decomposition
beneath a framed oil
of deer fleeing trees aflame.

The title kills the poem's primary nailer.
Something like 'The toast was burned' would let a reader become personally involved with the works progression.

The plumber's tools- I don't see "unsoiled" being appropriate. Perhaps 'unused' or 'not needed'.

Suggest consider breaking and flipping the first sentence of S2. Also a few word mods.

On days like this Mom's smiling face
outshines the sunrise.

That is an example of what I am on about.

Enough crit.

I gotta say I like the entire piece. It has textured content.
The last stanza serves well as a secondary nailer.