08-01-2024, 10:14 PM
Hi Miley-
some in-line comments below:
a melodrama
where the voice is cut
from its body: cool introduction- like the curtain opening on the poem
first my dog, now my grandma? good hook
red drunk she cursed
her wounds and the houses
that held them and the houses
that held them and not sure the repetition is working, but I get what you're saying
today it's spring good re-direction
we survived
good years
and new griefs
and know new dogs that are old
and growing older and don't think this line adds anything
how does one write about your brother? another interesting re-direction like a play moving through acts
the pictures in the hallway are quieted cool- like the pictures yell at the N
by fleeting hours
and the valley out the window
grows so dark it's
as though it were never there very much like this part
as though it weren't
someone's eternity and
what i really mean is
how do i write about your brother
without writing about mine? Since the poem is titled 'Mom' I interpret this as you referring to your uncle and your brother- interesting way of expressing that
i imagine myself stepping out
that valley-window
not believing in anything
but moonlight. I am a fan of this ending
...and the same generational melodramas continue to play out... The stories we're told; the ones we believe...
some in-line comments below:
a melodrama
where the voice is cut
from its body: cool introduction- like the curtain opening on the poem
first my dog, now my grandma? good hook
red drunk she cursed
her wounds and the houses
that held them and the houses
that held them and not sure the repetition is working, but I get what you're saying
today it's spring good re-direction
we survived
good years
and new griefs
and know new dogs that are old
and growing older and don't think this line adds anything
how does one write about your brother? another interesting re-direction like a play moving through acts
the pictures in the hallway are quieted cool- like the pictures yell at the N
by fleeting hours
and the valley out the window
grows so dark it's
as though it were never there very much like this part
as though it weren't
someone's eternity and
what i really mean is
how do i write about your brother
without writing about mine? Since the poem is titled 'Mom' I interpret this as you referring to your uncle and your brother- interesting way of expressing that
i imagine myself stepping out
that valley-window
not believing in anything
but moonlight. I am a fan of this ending
...and the same generational melodramas continue to play out... The stories we're told; the ones we believe...