The Voyeur and the Harpy

[billy]

i never followed them :J: i don't even know who those two russian guys
are. the fact you have shopping carts in the poem makes me think of harpy as a twattish woman with a nasty mouth.
i like the poem though i'm not sure about all of it. or i suppose any of it as the things i say are mainly conjecture. i see the point of view of someone watch the world, life, etc waste away through misuse/mistrust. there's a great sense of apathy in the poem, i really have no clues to the tales of Demeter and Persephone so connecting those kind of dots is beyond me. i did however enjoy the poem even though in places i found it a little vague.

you ask to see all of me this must be the harpy, which sort of makes the voyeur more of an acting participant

perhaps you imagine yourself as the breeze
whose fingers will stir colour from the brooding lake
and paint it into cloudsi'm not sure if this is the voyeur or the harpy

silent in the silt there are this really does sound yoderish, i mean say the line and you become yoda
rusted, twisted skeletons of shopping trolleys,
half a Datsun, someone’s dream of bliss in a wrought-iron bedhead
and I, who will need more than the six seeds you offer
to slough this season’s skin it reminds me of the canals of my youth.it also feels rather sad. (and I ) spoken of in the sense of being discarded like some piece of property, fit only for dumping.

breezes do not reach the pipes that breathe
excreta into algal blooms, red as the storm that rends
mother from child, i struggled to get a grip on this stanza. i'm sure part of it feels factual, the splitting of a family perhaps.

you ask, but you
have no desire to discover
that here is no fire to purify,
only eternal decay
and someone else’s idea
of how to shape a lifethis stanza actually feels really personal. there's some vitriol in the words, a knowing that it's all façade.