Marriage on the Rocks

[71degrees]

Awesome! On an unrelated note, since I've lately been rather obsessed with Talking Heads, the first thought I had before reading this poem was the song "Found a Job". No, it's theme is very, very, very different from this, but still. Anyway--

Paul did not marry until he was forty. He was a crow,
feet nearly at his eyes, bald, a poem composed 
of overweight lines. A barrister, a barrister. Always That's a dense collection of metaphors there, I think. Awesome! I'm a bit shaken by the abstractness of the image of the overweight poem over the rest -- maybe it's because I'm not used to seeing "poems" being used in poems to describe their (the latter poems') subjects. But never mind.
with this sad feeling of autumn that he did not belong  I don't like the throwing in of the word "autumn" here. It feels like an image that demands more exploration, on a point of the poem that doesn't really need it. It adds to the heavy, deathly nature of the work, sure, but with the crow, the baldness, and the drab barrister images at hand...
with normal people.

Natalie was only a fragment of his life, but she was
enough, a declension of soft birds wired against flight. A "declension"? I don't get it. A falling flock? A tense in languages? "of soft birds wired against flight" paints a beautiful and somehow sick portrait of Natalie's character.
And he married her.

Two images of birds here stand out, for me -- "He was a crow" and "soft birds wired against flight". Not an entire contrast, but, for me, a subtle reflection on how Natalie was "enough" for Paul, how she was a proper complement to his heavy, lonely life. Neat!

Often Paul would tell me life seemed so mysterious to him
now than when he started, more a massunderstanding, I'm not really sure, but "then" feels more appropriate than "now", with the whole action here being in the past. But again, I'm not really sure. "Massunderstanding" I get -- it's nice, though using this new word might be a bit shaky in general. Still, it's a statement that I think adds meaning to Paul's heavy character; I guess it's time that'll tell, for me, whether it really works or not. 
but there was enough heaven here for him to stay.
At least for awhile.

This feels more dependent on the well-defined nature of the words than the images. Then again, it is Paul speaking, and "massunderstanding" really is a cool invention.

Yesterday, Paul called to tell me Natalie was dying, 
that how we exist is only a fiber of something much larger, The unraveling of Paul's "massunderstanding" here is amazing (and a bit nonsensical for me, but that's a really good reflection of his fall, I think, rather than a problem). I would, however, detach the rest of the statement from the first line, to make the show of Natalie's dying more pointed, and to make the poignantly crazy image to stand out.
spiraling out of control to one tiny pinpoint of light
right before our eyes, some kind of pendulum rocking
a thousand miles away.

The image of light here stands out, as a subtle jab at Paul's little glimpse of heaven in the preceding stanza ("one tiny pinpoint of light"). The unraveling here feels perfect for the complexities so far glimpsed of Paul -- it's a full breakdown, sure, but the detached feeling of Paul's words here somehow mirrors the detached nature of his existence before, and somehow during (he always seemed to consider her as just "enough"), his relationship with Natalie.

While we were talking on the phone, my face turned
to look out my rear kitchen window. The taller ash trees
across the greening field reminded me of how
much less I should say since none of the words
made any sense to any of us: Paul, Death, or me. I don't gather this ending. I'm not familiar with what ash trees usually symbolize, so maybe that's a fault in my part, but after that, the poem just lightly touches on a natural, rather predictable reaction (I can't say anything), then talks about something I'm feeling is already obvious to the reader (that Paul's words don't immediately make sense; that the universal being he presents isn't immediately appreciable). I think a different idea is in order here -- though, what idea, I've not a clue.

And Natalie? She wasn’t even listening. I don't get the ending. Where's Natalie in all this? Up until this point, she's only been seen through the eyes (ears) of Paul or the speaker. This needs elaboration --  or elimination.  (Based on earlier crits) It doesn't seem to matter what she sees in all of this, since she was never the speaker or the lens of the poem (how does her lack of care affect the statement of the poem, when she's never shown as a character of her own with a voice of her own anyway): it was always Paul, or the speaker.

Thanks for the good read!

There is a plethora of information here for me to ponder. Based on your excellent critique and other thoughts here, I think this poem needs a serious haircut. I'm still with it and I will post a revision when I can. May is hell at my job but we are rapidly closing on another year and I will be free soon. Again, thanks.

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First stanza is outstanding.

I am confused about how Natalie was just a fragment of his life.  It sounds as if she was more than that, much more.  

I like the thought on the following lines, but the way it is written is unwieldy.  Maybe on purpose? Are you trying to convey discomfort?  

Ash tree and death.  I think it is clever, but is it forced?

"...of how
much less I should say since none of the words
made any sense to any of us: Paul, Death, or me."

Anyhow, I hate to critique anything that is better than I can write, but I thought I could help.

Welcome, Mr. Creosote. Thanks for picking up on the ash trees/death image. Only an individual reader can determine if an image is forced or not. Natalie is currently in hospice care. Death kind of forces itself upon us at the most inopportune of times, doesn't it? Kind of the theme of the poem, I guess. The last line of the poem is supposed to convey this, a bit. She's not really listening to the men's conversation. Why should she? It won't matter anyway.

"…but I thought I could help." You have. And I thank you.