06-24-2017, 08:04 AM
Hi Todd. Okay, I can't resist critiquing/commenting any longer. Good golly I was completely and absolutely intimidated by this write and felt a chill of thrill with each edit and change. I think it very interesting and am glad you brought back the bricks. It is fitting to this place and the lore of the wolf in children's tales. The format even seemed to accidentally take on the form of shadowiness. The ears bent forward, hefty brow, big lupine paws (made even bigger with the addition of edit acknowledgements). You are seriously a magically gifted poet.
Revision 2.1
Hunger is a breathless dance not sure how hunger makes teeth dance, but teeth must be mentioned and hunger, so...
of teeth; the stale smell of bricks, breathless and bricks goes well with this wolfen account
I stink of it.
My ears prick pointy, springing to listen for an advantage
to the sanguine skip, her hum this is cool poetry talk, beat-like, hip daddy stuff
a mouthful of bees. I thought of goldilocks for a split second, stealing some honey from the bears
She dangles sweet cherries the psyche of the wolf
on the tongue that licks
against this gnarled root. twisted origins
Slick droplet,
bag of raw meat,
not so little girl,
her hair a thorny tangle
of waves beneath
the blood moon.
Who could see
and claim her
an ingénue? a question left in the air
Liquid desire not an answer, but a distraction
in pale, naked
light dribbling
down my chin.
No longer hooded,
her breath rasping, coarse file
a whetstone against another file
my sharp angles. her voice softens sharpness
Generations will fill
my stomach—
so big, so big. interesting, many direction ending
epic. thanks, Todd.
blessings to you poet
janine
Revision 2.1
Hunger is a breathless dance not sure how hunger makes teeth dance, but teeth must be mentioned and hunger, so...
of teeth; the stale smell of bricks, breathless and bricks goes well with this wolfen account
I stink of it.
My ears prick pointy, springing to listen for an advantage
to the sanguine skip, her hum this is cool poetry talk, beat-like, hip daddy stuff
a mouthful of bees. I thought of goldilocks for a split second, stealing some honey from the bears
She dangles sweet cherries the psyche of the wolf
on the tongue that licks
against this gnarled root. twisted origins
Slick droplet,
bag of raw meat,
not so little girl,
her hair a thorny tangle
of waves beneath
the blood moon.
Who could see
and claim her
an ingénue? a question left in the air
Liquid desire not an answer, but a distraction
in pale, naked
light dribbling
down my chin.
No longer hooded,
her breath rasping, coarse file
a whetstone against another file
my sharp angles. her voice softens sharpness
Generations will fill
my stomach—
so big, so big. interesting, many direction ending
epic. thanks, Todd.
blessings to you poet
janine
there's always a better reason to love