Miracle

[busker]

Miracle


While driving to El Paso, I started seeing double. Now that there ... the opening works well, drawing the reader in. The seeing double foreshadows the marriage perhaps, but as a weak joke and this point never got resolved in the poem, at least it wasn't obvious to me
were twice as many cars, it was hard to focus, though the purple 
mist hanging on everything deserves some blame. The hills were 

wearing drag again: in San Francisco, even the fog spilling over   ... these are some wonderful lines
your shoulder is florid, aggressively gay. I could see through them 
like fata morgana. Exhausted, the world had become disembodied, 

and in so doing placed me in terrible danger. Except for a Carl’s   ... I like the little details, which make it a believable driving narrative
Jr’s pointed obscenity, there were no visible stars. I was sailing 
deep into the beast’s dark, moonless belly. It was a beautiful night.  ... the beast's belly is cliche, but moonless saves it

It should be less cliche for me to say my skull was full of beauty, or 
that I found another fork of lighting in the road. The slumped rope  ... the poem starts to meander after the fork of lightning
of a dead snake’s body disappeared before my headlights; it had just 

been a branch. The lightning tore that oak in two, I said aloud, though 
it was only me out there. It tried to get a good look at its heart, and 
somehow in the process, poor fella lost a limb. Now you’re being 

dramatic, I said, in a raspy voice I hardly recognized. I think that’s 
really beautiful, a different voice replied. A new pair of black tassel  ... the entire section in blue is doing too much. There's too much going on. The reader loses the thread of what you're trying to say. It does not advance the poem, only serves as a distraction. Keep the narrative, but make it simpler.
loafers smoldered in the trunk. My head felt radio. I kept driving.

Two days before the wedding, I take them out to try them on. We have 
to stop at a cobbler’s to get the insteps widened. There's two parking 
spots and both say HANDICAPPED. He takes one look at my duck ... the anecdote lands well. duck feet is a nice detail

feet, shakes his head, has a birthmark shaped like Texas, says I’ll give 
you these for fifty. My best man laughs so hard he knocks over a pocket 
square display. The air is briefly full of flowers. It’s you I’m marrying. ... perfect ending

Matsun, greatly enjoyed reading this one. The last line alone makes it worthwhile