Beneath a Red Hood (Revision 2.1)

[billy]

Look at this tangle of thorns—Nabokov

Hunger is a breathless dance of teeth—
the smell of bricks—
I stink of it. [good opening triolet]

Prick to the sound [for me this line needs some clarity]
of a sanguine skip, her hum
a mouthful of bees.

The taste of innocence is sweet
cherries on the tongue. Licks
across the gnarled root. [great triolet]

This bag of raw meat,
slick droplet, budding rose,
this not so little girl. [another good one]

Hair like the blood
moon in a tangle
of thorns, a violent cascade [is 'a violent cascade' need?]

Who could see
and claim her
an ingénue? [brilliant use of the word]

The liquid color of desire
in pale naked light
the smell of mutton, dribbling wine. [great lines again]

The path meant to walk
away from—
generations will fill my stomach. [for me this verse feels very forced.]

No longer hooded,
breath a rasping whetstone
against my sharp angles.

So big, so big, today is different.
~~~


(From the poetry practice did some edits to it).

for me the allusion to Nabokov's lolita doesn't work too well. (most will never have heard of him. i do think 'look at this tangle of thorns' works well with out Nabocov's name.

i think this poem is a little gem (even with my comments) with some great imagery, a small edit i think, would give you a very printable poet.

thanks for the read as always. jmo