Six Months in 1995

[billy]

for me there were a couple of lines verging on cliche;
with the brightness of the moon–
the rasp of our own breathing;

it's jammed with good lines;

dominatrix with a bread knife,
itchy-faced bouncer with teeth
that wouldn’t brush clean,
red-dressed addict in frayed
fishnets, covered with drywall
vomit in the walk-in-closet.
Glasses clinked and shattered
into lines that crawled up noses burning
inexorable fuses.
Arms and legs splayed forever
exploded over rust-stained shag.

the last 4 lines bring it down to earth but for me it was a little to late for it to be effective.

if i had a nit it would be; there's too much allusion.
it takes a lot of reads to decipher the poem and then the reader isn't sure if he got it, the reader being me lol.
i do enjoy a poem that brings me back without opening up on the first few reads normally. but i feel that this poem should be in my face and ready to roll.

i get the feel of that unspeakable couple, young, out there on the edge trying everything about life except the living of it. (in fact they're more than living it they;re killing it.) again for me with such a powerful write i'd like to see something solid that tethers it away from so much allusion.

it's certainly a better than average write and it could just be me that see it the way i do.

thanks for the read todd.