What the Cats Know

[tectak]

What the Cats Know

Ella/Todd edit 1/version 2.0

Only the night
and occasional cat
see me naked and vulnerable,
while sneaking out to the recycle bin The "while" can go. It is implied simultaneity
or standing on my deck
in the purging rain. I have mixed feelings about "purging" IN THIS CONTEXT. It seems to me that "purgatives" are to be taken by mouth, not externally. It works, but is not the bon mot. Even "cleansing" or "blessed" would do it for me. Your poem

I’m capable of baring all
in the bright sunlight;
disclosing that one testicle revealing not disclosing. Sight not sound. Moot.
hangs lower than the other; If you have to cascade semi-colons you need several bloody good reasons. Two is one short of a list...not enough reason. Comma after "sunlight".
letting it be known
that an alien worm
clings to my skin and taunts
of where my appendix used to be. "...taunts of where" is convoluted. You could just scrape in if you left out the "of" or substituted "me".
I could divulge that blue veins If that "disclose" is still in the building you could it here. Nothing wrong with divulge except that it is usually used to admit to a suspicion already held. As in:
"At last, he divulged the truth...we had suspected as much all along"
Against: "The disclosure was dynamite...it took us all by surprise". Only you know which!
fishnet my loins and thighs
after making love
or vigorous exercise. Nice...sadly

Beneath clothing hides I can't help it. I want this line to read
" Buried beneath clothing,
hide the furtive moles."
those furtive moles,
the splattered ink of secrets;
my journey and unspoken history. I don't get this...and I have really tried. You are mixing way too many metaphors. Moles, ink, travel and history in one sentence is just too much.
Deeper still, where axons amass Whoops! Because you connect to L1 so tenaciously I am still buried "deeper still" beneath clothing...yet I am now in your head. Some hat.
and synapses lie bare, This is strictly for googlers...where they will be distressed to discover that to "lie bare" is not a known characteristic of synapses. Find some other way of saying whatever you are trying to say. I am allowing myself to be confused. My synapses are firing low.
dwell murmurs of how
I feel for you.

My layers are transparent
at night
and I become a glass artichoke. ...begging the all important question....Globe or Jerusalem?
Before the moon,
I lose all mystery....and I'm a crystal banana. Save this for another poem. It is a useless appendage to an otherwise worthy concept. I think you were running out of semantic steam and stuck this stanza on to limp into the station.

Overall, the concept never reached its birth weight...but it was a beautiful baby. You were too taken with the joy of creation that you forgot to feed regularly. End of metaphor. This is worth reviving.
Best,
tectak



Ella/Todd edit 1/version 2.0 Thanks fellow poets
----------------------------------------
In daylight,
I am perpetually cloaked
in fabric, leather and white lab-coat;
over-fettered by words and monthly reports.
Only the night and occasional cat
see me naked and vulnerable,
while sneaking out to the recycle bin
or standing on my deck
in the purging rain.

I’m capable of baring all
in the bright sunlight;
disclosing that one testicle
hangs lower than the other
or let it be known that an alien worm
clings to my skin and taunts
of where my appendix used to be.
I could divulge that blue veins
fishnet my loins and thighs
after making love
or vigorous exercise.

Beneath clothing hides
those furtive moles,
the splattered ink of secrets;
my journey and unspoken history.
Deeper still, where axons amass
and synapses lie bare,
dwell murmurs of how
I feel for you.

My layers are transparent
at night
as I become a glass artichoke.

Before the moon,
I lose all mystery.