05-30-2024, 01:54 PM
#
Dead bolt
Morning's awaiting the slide and the thunk
of the dead bolt
locking behind you; it listens for chirps
from your car keys,
signals of hushing alarms. In the stillness, the tea pot
whistles then yawns to the clicking of Legos the kids build;
murmuring hums from the dishwasher singing its calm hymn.
Finding my pen like a friend at a party, we talk men—
whispering phrases the kids shouldn't hear till they've grown old.
Footsteps approaching
the patio door bring a quick chill:
words back in place, in their books
lest they slip out
and blame me.
This is an extraordinary poem. The idea is that someone will read a romantic fantasy and mistake as real. Instead of a child’s key fastening a diary, there’s a deadbolt fastening a happy home.
So, if we understand each other, get rid of that awful semicolon. Poets underestimate the drama of a period. Semicolons are so misused that their proper use is skunked. And this use in particular is suspect.
That’s the easy part.
Also the easy part, you’ve handled rhyme and rhythm properly, and I trust you’ll stay steady with each.
Now.
Here’s what you need to edit for: precision and oomph.
It’s clear to my eye that the fulcrum of this poem’s power is pronoun substitution. There’s a lovely sub of “it listens” right on line two. Clearly, a deadbolt isn’t listening. The speaker is listening. There are several instances of this throughout. Examine every pronoun for more mustard. From “your” car keys could be “from your car’s keys” if you want to hang the driver or “from our car keys” or “from our car’s keys.”
In my opinion, you should edit for drama and then reedit for truth.
The worst line in the poem is “Footsteps approaching”. Who is alarmed. Why? Do you want, “His footsteps approaching,” “The approaching footsteps of the delivery man,” or what? The approach of footsteps is inert anyway. Dig into this and it’ll lead the rest.
I’d give you micro notes, but you don’t need them. This is the story of a chaste woman with charged fantasies. Make it thrilling. Figure out how to leverage those weird pronoun uses into the sparkle on a lot stick of dynamite.
Rereading, you have two awkward semicolons and a useless colon. Your goal is to discard punctuation, not to make it important.
You’re good at the fundamentals. Now, figure out what kind of object you want to hurt us with. A bat? A hammer? An epee? A scalpel? The only thing audiences want is injury. Squeeze our fucking bruise and twist. We love injury more than anything else. And a semicolon never hurt anyone.
*a lit stick
Just, I have to say this, dead bolt, quick chill, kids build, calm hymn, and especially “blame me”—when I say you have the rhythm under control, I’m talking about those masterful spondaic tensions and the rhymes they go with.
Dead bolt
Morning's awaiting the slide and the thunk
of the dead bolt
locking behind you; it listens for chirps
from your car keys,
signals of hushing alarms. In the stillness, the tea pot
whistles then yawns to the clicking of Legos the kids build;
murmuring hums from the dishwasher singing its calm hymn.
Finding my pen like a friend at a party, we talk men—
whispering phrases the kids shouldn't hear till they've grown old.
Footsteps approaching
the patio door bring a quick chill:
words back in place, in their books
lest they slip out
and blame me.
This is an extraordinary poem. The idea is that someone will read a romantic fantasy and mistake as real. Instead of a child’s key fastening a diary, there’s a deadbolt fastening a happy home.
So, if we understand each other, get rid of that awful semicolon. Poets underestimate the drama of a period. Semicolons are so misused that their proper use is skunked. And this use in particular is suspect.
That’s the easy part.
Also the easy part, you’ve handled rhyme and rhythm properly, and I trust you’ll stay steady with each.
Now.
Here’s what you need to edit for: precision and oomph.
It’s clear to my eye that the fulcrum of this poem’s power is pronoun substitution. There’s a lovely sub of “it listens” right on line two. Clearly, a deadbolt isn’t listening. The speaker is listening. There are several instances of this throughout. Examine every pronoun for more mustard. From “your” car keys could be “from your car’s keys” if you want to hang the driver or “from our car keys” or “from our car’s keys.”
In my opinion, you should edit for drama and then reedit for truth.
The worst line in the poem is “Footsteps approaching”. Who is alarmed. Why? Do you want, “His footsteps approaching,” “The approaching footsteps of the delivery man,” or what? The approach of footsteps is inert anyway. Dig into this and it’ll lead the rest.
I’d give you micro notes, but you don’t need them. This is the story of a chaste woman with charged fantasies. Make it thrilling. Figure out how to leverage those weird pronoun uses into the sparkle on a lot stick of dynamite.
Rereading, you have two awkward semicolons and a useless colon. Your goal is to discard punctuation, not to make it important.
You’re good at the fundamentals. Now, figure out what kind of object you want to hurt us with. A bat? A hammer? An epee? A scalpel? The only thing audiences want is injury. Squeeze our fucking bruise and twist. We love injury more than anything else. And a semicolon never hurt anyone.
*a lit stick
Just, I have to say this, dead bolt, quick chill, kids build, calm hymn, and especially “blame me”—when I say you have the rhythm under control, I’m talking about those masterful spondaic tensions and the rhymes they go with.
A yak is normal.