I guess, we'll see.

[Knot]

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Hi lass,
enjoyed the read. And am broadly in agreement with Seraphim
(particularly about the voice and in what could be cut).

I think you could find a better title, one more likely to hook a passing reader.


A rather blunt edit, just suggestions, no more.

Two years ago they grew legs,                                                   I think this would make a more intriguing opening line.
abandoned me, those [empty] oracles
of insanity, my fatherless children:
songs and sighs, and pseudo sinister
promises, of course, I'm going to
die!


I didn't write, I couldn't die,
[nor make] deliberate orphans,                                                  like 'deliberate orphans'.
[of them] in [their] drawers
keys misplaced, unwanted,
useless and without her
having read [a word]                                                                 you did mention you liked untidy endings


Yes, Mother's Ghost...

still, I am not me, not her, not she
you delighted in, laughed at, [laughed]
with, [She was] never mean, never shrill,
[never un]accepting of every chronic painful thing
making sport of hardships
and leaking boats. O captain my captain!
- these last two lines seem to be in a different voice, which, along with the Whitman, doesn't work for me - though the meaning does.

Mama, come back to me.

So, okay. It doesn't work that way
and I, a protester now, protest,
appealing certain handwritten signs
I've seen, [here and there,] resentful
memes, never you mind [what]
[their] origin, [their] intent, it's the angst
that counts [against ... ], the reverie.
- not making the leap from resentful to reverie.

I'll abandon those as well, those
not mine things. My words tap tap
My works, crap crap
My muses, ironed flat, now beckon
but a painting first, the lake, the trees
[a promise redeemed upon] your study wall.                                 (change the order to avoid ending on a rhyme,)



Best, Knot


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