08-18-2015, 11:00 AM
Mark,
Believe it or not, I think I know exactly the saxophone you're talking about. I came up out of Capital South with a friend of mine some months ago and the guy was there playing at the entrance. It was actually kind of a resonating experience in the moment, being at the bottom of the escalator and coming up into the light, all the while hearing this lonely horn. Just posted a poem too which is set in that same day, though I didn't include the saxophone at the end. Obviously, there's more than one sax player in DC, but it's a small world to see this up here.
Regarding the poem, I quite like it. This is mostly because it makes me think of that moment, coming up into the light and feeling really compelled to tip the guy. Your poem stands well on it own, and I can't say much against it. What I would say though is try to make us readers want to tip him too.
I can't say we had the same experience here, but what I'm kinda starved for in this poem is more emotion. The feeling you're going for is more nostalgia than anything else, but I don't feel connected to it past my experience. Since you're feeling nostalgic, take us there, make us feel like we almost know that tune too. That would take this from being a small, pleasing, well arranged, but kind of forgettable poem to something that puts us there and stays with us. It takes ME there, but I've been there before.
Otherwise, I really appreciate the read and hope I didn't go too hard for Misc.
This is a good poem, and honestly fine as is. I just find myself wanting to squeeze a lot more out of it.
Hope this makes sense/was at least a little helpful.
Best,
Cousin
Believe it or not, I think I know exactly the saxophone you're talking about. I came up out of Capital South with a friend of mine some months ago and the guy was there playing at the entrance. It was actually kind of a resonating experience in the moment, being at the bottom of the escalator and coming up into the light, all the while hearing this lonely horn. Just posted a poem too which is set in that same day, though I didn't include the saxophone at the end. Obviously, there's more than one sax player in DC, but it's a small world to see this up here.
Regarding the poem, I quite like it. This is mostly because it makes me think of that moment, coming up into the light and feeling really compelled to tip the guy. Your poem stands well on it own, and I can't say much against it. What I would say though is try to make us readers want to tip him too.
I can't say we had the same experience here, but what I'm kinda starved for in this poem is more emotion. The feeling you're going for is more nostalgia than anything else, but I don't feel connected to it past my experience. Since you're feeling nostalgic, take us there, make us feel like we almost know that tune too. That would take this from being a small, pleasing, well arranged, but kind of forgettable poem to something that puts us there and stays with us. It takes ME there, but I've been there before.
Otherwise, I really appreciate the read and hope I didn't go too hard for Misc.
This is a good poem, and honestly fine as is. I just find myself wanting to squeeze a lot more out of it.
Hope this makes sense/was at least a little helpful.
Best,
Cousin