03-24-2017, 11:45 AM
Hey
I enjoyed reading this poem. I think you have a solid start and with a little work it could really bite.
I look forward to your edits!
EGR
Something like this is what I have in mind (hope this is OK, admins):
I drank slowly, measuring the eyes
of the girl opposite me, watching the hands
of the grandfather clock as it neared its chime.
She had met Dean at a bar a few weeks ago,
and he told me she was an angry fuck,
biting and scratching until she came.
She brought college friends,
a slim blonde with crooked teeth,
and a short one, grey eyes and neon jeans.
I pretended to be interested
in their stories.
I enjoyed reading this poem. I think you have a solid start and with a little work it could really bite.
(03-24-2017, 06:44 AM)Wjames Wrote: Ten shins were bundled tightThinking back to the criticisms in the beginning, I'm starting to come around to Todd's suggestions for cuts. I feel like this poem would have more of a punch if you pack it up tighter. Something seemingly slighter, wispier, would suit the nature of the poem's stake.
beneath the knotty alder table
supporting our glasses. I like the first two lines, could do without the third. I think there is a sort of neat "zoom-in" quality to the escalation of action and where the focus heads, but I get what Todd is saying. By the end of the poem, I'm not as certain about the opening.
It was Dean’s cabin,
and he sat at the table’s head
drinking whiskey like a scoundrel
getting ready for a crime. I'm not a fan of this stanza. I dislike "like a scoundrel getting ready for a crime". It's not working even the slightest bit for me. I think some of the information is necessary--Dean and his ownership and the whiskey--but I'm not very interested in its expression.
I drank slowly, measuring the eyes
of the girl opposite me, watching the hands
of the grandfather clock as it neared its chime. The strongest stanza by far.
The girl’s father had been in the army,
and she would move from base to base
like a leadoff hitter headed home. I appreciate the "base to base" entendre, but the following line loses me. I would cut the whole stanza. If you're not interested in the girl's story, why is this here? The army daughter thing seems a little played out to me, too. I think you should let the reader fill in their own blanks about the type of girl this is.
She had met Dean at a bar a few weeks ago,
and he told me she was an angry fuck,
biting and scratching until she came. While not as technically or poetically fine as the third stanza, this stanza is my favorite. "an angry fuck"--yes! THIS is the type of detail that fits with your conclusion. Own that objectification.
She brought two friends,
a slim blonde with crooked teeth,
and a short brunette with grey eyes. Having trouble with this one. The first line is boring but it seems necessary to introduce the girls. I'm wondering why these girls warrant a physical description while the first doesn't. I like the second line. I'm mixed about the third line, maybe because it seems too tame or even positive (if only because it's not negative).
They looked like college girls,
draped in cardigans with their thighs
wrapped in neon jeans. Wavering here. I liked it at first, except that 'draped' and 'wrapped' was too heavy for me. But as I ponder it, I think that I don't so much like the 'thighs wrapped', and then I consider whether 'draped in cardigans' is a bit stale. Yes, I think as I read it over it becomes less and less interesting. Perhaps because, again, detailing something like clothing--and not even sexy clothing--seems out of character from what I'm getting of the speaker's sensibilities.
I pretended to be interested
in their stories. I like it. It's understated, but has a little snark. BUT I wouldn't blink if someone else were to tell me they didn't like it. I think you have some work to do on the lead-up to earn this ending.
I look forward to your edits!
EGR
Something like this is what I have in mind (hope this is OK, admins):
I drank slowly, measuring the eyes
of the girl opposite me, watching the hands
of the grandfather clock as it neared its chime.
She had met Dean at a bar a few weeks ago,
and he told me she was an angry fuck,
biting and scratching until she came.
She brought college friends,
a slim blonde with crooked teeth,
and a short one, grey eyes and neon jeans.
I pretended to be interested
in their stories.

