07-01-2018, 11:37 PM
Dry of or dry from metaphors?
This is your place: another blackout drunk,
mouth dry of metaphors,
eyes bloodshot and sensitive.
This part always seems overdone. I think of Climbing out of a ditch of words, the sunlight in your eyes.
Something less dead.
This is your place: buried beneath words,
quiet as lilies by a gravestone.
A piece of you left for dead on a page.
It seems too easy. Maybe lost among the checked coats, or some other place. There's more than obvious, which stands out. There's obvious, that's old news. And there's less than obvious, which could be similar to more than obvious, but can be a regressive exaggeration, the kind where hardly anything is being said, a kind of inverse, perverse, hyperbole.
This is your place: far from the head table,
hidden in the coat check,
wine anesthetic against applause.
Holds cheap pen: This kind of minimal wording is minimal in what it does. Though it does cast a sense of fragility or clumsy, teetering between consciousnesses of hangoverness. It could come to this point in the poem and work if only there was more richness and thickety before you got here.
This is your place: hungover,
trembling hand holds cheap pen
only to steady while writing.
I see the person tottering the whole time, hungover the whole time; drunkenness as a metaphor, a literal metaphor, for poetic spirit and poetic being, but not much drunkenness. The poem can be the drunkenness while the poet depicted is the hangoverer, or the hangoveree, but the language could be more drunken. And by that I don't mean sloppy, but wild and free. And rich. Rich with richness. Drunk on poetry and the world, the hangovered world.
This is your place: another blackout drunk,
mouth dry of metaphors,
eyes bloodshot and sensitive.
This part always seems overdone. I think of Climbing out of a ditch of words, the sunlight in your eyes.
Something less dead.
This is your place: buried beneath words,
quiet as lilies by a gravestone.
A piece of you left for dead on a page.
It seems too easy. Maybe lost among the checked coats, or some other place. There's more than obvious, which stands out. There's obvious, that's old news. And there's less than obvious, which could be similar to more than obvious, but can be a regressive exaggeration, the kind where hardly anything is being said, a kind of inverse, perverse, hyperbole.
This is your place: far from the head table,
hidden in the coat check,
wine anesthetic against applause.
Holds cheap pen: This kind of minimal wording is minimal in what it does. Though it does cast a sense of fragility or clumsy, teetering between consciousnesses of hangoverness. It could come to this point in the poem and work if only there was more richness and thickety before you got here.
This is your place: hungover,
trembling hand holds cheap pen
only to steady while writing.
I see the person tottering the whole time, hungover the whole time; drunkenness as a metaphor, a literal metaphor, for poetic spirit and poetic being, but not much drunkenness. The poem can be the drunkenness while the poet depicted is the hangoverer, or the hangoveree, but the language could be more drunken. And by that I don't mean sloppy, but wild and free. And rich. Rich with richness. Drunk on poetry and the world, the hangovered world.