Hiatus

[baifan]

This is an interesting piece of work. As has been suggested by others, you clearly have a lot of powerful images and ideas tucked away, you are clearly trying to express something meaningful here, and you have turned to poetry to communicate it, but the language stands to obfuscate rather than elucidate it. Here are some thoughts:

Hiatus


Sweet beer is a lampshade askew -I don't get the sweet beer = lampshade metaphor
in the corner of a must-scented
room, blue for the evening,
with a blue stained sofa borrowed
years ago from one of mom's
work acquaintances she hasn't seen in years.
I mean a poem is like a dream -"I mean" sounds weird to me, as well, and it doesn't seem to serve any purpose
in that you don't remember most of it.
Or the moon is like the broken -agree that this needs explication. This metaphor has no recognizable effect
record player I got as a Christmas gift
in middle school, which was not
broken but delightful when I got it
and which now looks cool as ever
with its crocked up lid and needle,
with its dust, only it plays
records wrong, a little too fast
or a little too slow, rending it unusable. -definitely rendering, not rending

False plants curl in the shadow -does a plant have a truth value? Or did you mean something like "fake"
of the windowsill, and the dog with an odd
occasional grunt rests on the rug
at the foot of the stair.
The typewriter I rarely touch
rests beside me on the desk,
loaded with paper, gleaming in the lamplight.
I've written some good poems on that machine.
Or the drafts that later became
good poems, or the bad poems remedied
bit by bit on my laptop until
they became not-quite-perfect
but at least themselves. Years ago
this was the desk in my bedroom, and over
the years it hasn't changed.
It is red mahogany—blue in the dark—
covered with scratches and cup rings. -this is nice imagery; this is how it should be done
This is the same house, rearranged. -this right here, I feel, encapsulates the main counterpoint of the piece. The tension between familiarity and unfamiliarity, past and present, and the premise of capturing this tension through the objects in the house is great. I would restructure around this idea.

Cold moon tomorrow.
I mean December's full moon. -again, think hard about what these "I mean"s are doing
I've got work, and also
I think I'll lose my mind.
Just a little. In spring I'll move out.
Leaving my parents and sister, and
most of my things, until my parents also
move and my sister goes
to college, and then this place
where I sit, so familiar in its proximity
will drift forever from my life
and become the stuff of dreams.

There's an essential idea here that is valuable. The imagery feels strained but not disingenuous. This could be great given a serious edit.