11/04/2023

[alonso ramoran]

Hollowed-out apartment buildings in the empire
stand as monuments to suffering.
The streets are valleys where forgotten parts of us
plead a river of machinery to slow and spare
some humanity, some god, however much
that it would cost. We were deprived.
Our shadows were harvested for an uncanny night
of concrete ash, and the light
of phosphorus flickers in your toothy grin.
Claim the milk and honey, twist your tongue away
from the rotten truth you kept underneath
your waking dreams of purity. It makes no difference
for a paper tiger. Our winds blow regardless.

[Tiger the Lion]

Hollowed-out apartment buildings in the empire
stand as monuments to suffering.
The streets are valleys where forgotten parts of us
plead a river of machinery to slow and spare
some humanity, some god, however much
that it would cost. We were deprived. Awkward. Maybe "it may cost" or "the counted cost." --"that" seems out of place
Our shadows were harvested for an uncanny night
of concrete ash, and the light
of phosphorus flickers in your toothy grin.
Claim the milk and honey, twist your tongue away
from the rotten truth you kept underneath
your waking dreams of purity. It makes no difference
for a paper tiger. Our winds blow regardless.

One hiccup on first read.

[TranquillityBase]

Hollowed-out apartment buildings in the empire     perhaps, "The empire's hollowed out apartment buildings" ?
stand as monuments to suffering.
The streets are valleys where forgotten parts of us
plead a river of machinery to slow and spare
some humanity, some god, however much
that it would cost. We were deprived.                   agree with Tiger; I tend to use "that" too much, and make an effort now to avoid it
Our shadows were harvested for an uncanny night
of concrete ash, and the light
of phosphorus flickers in your toothy grin.
Claim the milk and honey, twist your tongue away
from the rotten truth you kept underneath
your waking dreams of purity. It makes no difference
for a paper tiger. Our winds blow regardless.                 The line about a paper tiger seems not in keeping with the pointed, detailed imagery preceding it.

The best compliment I can give, and I want to give one, is that I wish I'd written these liines.  Leaves me wondering (and i think good poems often leave one wondering) who the "you" is.

Well done