(content warning) Blackpool Tryst

[tectak]

lots of tell in the poem jack. it needs to be trimmed back, words like instinctively, some stock phrases such as unbuckling belts, soft yielding.
normally i like you're narratives but it doesn't work so well for me in this one.

thanks for the read.

I drummed my fingers on his hips
to put off what I knew would happen lines like this don't really add to the poem
in this rented room, by a beach
littered with working men and women
who flee, once a year,
to this pathetic fete of a town... the main part of this stanza is too tell.

I finally stopped drumming and gripped,
roughly massaging his waist.
I kissed his neck. He moaned. nothing new here, while the follow does add something it's a pretty common phrase
Acting? I found him on a stage, after all.
Or maybe he likes older men, and I,
40 to his 22, filled an ache
somewhere inside a fractured stone.

I started unbuckling his belt
and he leaned forward instinctively,
palms on the bedspread.
The soft, yielding pear of an anus, sorry, but i laughed at this line. i'd suggest arse instead of anus, unless his hole really is pear shaped
breakfast to an ancient king,
made me sweat, and I felt like a pervert in a trench coat,
leading cherubs into darkness.
But still it would have happened, so I pushed my way inside
as gently as I could, responding to the tones of his voice.

A small part of me wondered what
was going on outside... for me this would be the perfect ending.
"a bird perches on a discarded carton of chips,
a woman links arms with a man she's just met,
and two lost children cry by a newsagent's stand".

I am only reminded of Amis who when voicing his distress at impotency suggested it was like trying to feed an oyster into a parking meter....so a pear is no problem!
best,
tectak ( Sorry, I took a wrong turn and found myself here; or sorry I took a wrong turn and found myself here)