Senior Year

[Mark101]

Hi Scarlettehale,

I think this piece has a lot of merit. It's a very hard subject to deal with and sadly all to common these days, I think you did it quite well. On first looking at your piece, I thought Jeez, this is long, and nearly didn't bother to read, but actually once I started, you managed to keep my attention to the end, so it must have something I liked. I have to agree that it could benefit from punctuation, and from being condensed, because being so long, does tend to put people off, (I know from personal experience, having written a few pieces where folks have said the same to me lol)

Just a few things that stuck out to me-

Senior year (If only my 18th birthday was 14 years away rather than 2 months past)

1.
Sunday, 2:03pm,
my father breaks the shower faucet
for the third time this month
my mother drags her body up the stairs
mental exhaustion wears on her eye sockets ----- Not liking "wears on", maybe "shows in" could be better, otherwise a good opening stanza.

their vows ring in her ears
he throws a wrench at her face
but its blocked
by my father's drunken aim ---------- it can't really be blocked by the thrower, maybe "easily dodged"

Sunday, 2:05pm
my sister leaps on spot ---------I'm not understanding this ------ should it be "leaps on THE spot"? Or do you have a dog called Spot, and your sister just leapt on it?

her legs still crossed
on my bedroom floor

she is not met with an iron tool
but my stare -------------------------------Something missing here, maybe "but my steely stare"
of both embarrassment and pity

fear lazily strikes itself across her face, ---------I'm not sure that fear "strikes itself", lazily or otherwise, and probably not lazily either.

panic is barely noticeable,
the angry words and drunken slurs
were nothing less than habitual.

Sunday, 2:07pm
my mother's body slams
against a wall or a door
the thump is dead
it mocks her

Sunday, 2:11pm
I rip the bathroom door from its hinges
imagine the firm handshake
my father once showed me

I lumbar over the threshold -----------This lumbar refers to your back, should it be "lumber"?
stand toe to toe with Goliath
I am David
I have come with neither slingshot nor stone

my father's crutch is my savior
he is too drunk to throw anything at my face
but not drunk enough to be conquered

Sunday, 2:19pm
my mother and I part
as if he is Moses and we are the Red Sea
he half tumbles down the stairs
whisky becomes lead in the blood stream -----------Maybe "his" blood stream would be better?

Sunday, 2:37pm
the blue Subaru
shifts and submits under my father's hand
just as my mother has done so many nights

the car lurches backward
a diagonal course
those marks will scar the grass
for years

Sunday, 4:01pm
my mother's vocal cords have seized
her body hugs the memory
of my father's driver's seat --------I don't understand these 2 lines.

the warmth of the blacktop
a better husband
than my father could ever be



2.
Sunday, 4:57pm
my lips shift in tandem
with my vocal cord's vibration ----------personally, I never like to repeat things if I can help it, so "vocal cords" here, so close to the last use, jars a little for me.

diaphragm expands and contracts

I need to cringe at the drone -------cringe "as" the drone of the officer's voice mixes
the officer's voice
mixes, so irritatingly
with the phone's
electrical buzz

shallow breaths between
automated responses
supplies just enough oxygen
so I cannot forget tonight --------not really getting this, are we talking about a breathalizer?

Sunday, 5:28pm
I open the French door
the familiar sound of suction
seems less nostalgic tonight

my bare feet tango
around the missing deck boards
another project my mother thought
could fix my father ---------------------------love this analogy

she is a part of the blacktop now
the sun illuminates her umber hair
the grey strands bow toward the light

I pause quickly ----------------------can you pause quickly? Maybe you don't need "pause" at all.
will I be that beautiful when
the cool March breeze is the only
thing in this world
willing enough to touch my skin ---------------I don't think you need "enough", I think the thought is stronger without it.

I hope you don't mind too much my comments, they're only my thoughts on the piece. I'm sure others may disagree. As I said earlier, I do like it and I do think it has merit and will look forward to reading your revision.

best regards

Mark