Askew

[Todd]

Hi Leanne,

I've looked at this poem off-and-on since you posted it, but haven't had the time due to family and holidays to give it the attention it deserved. Forgive me, I haven't read the thread through so if I comment on some aspect of the poem you've already discussed I apologize for any redundancy.


I like the title quite a bit oddly perhaps what I like the most about it is that it rhymes with L2. While this may be gimmicky, I almost hoped you would add some slant rhymes to play off the title.

Let's go through the lines:

Sometimes I tilt my head to the side
and cross-eyed, try to imagine your view
through that close woven canvas you wear
as your gray-shadowed sleeve

The first two lines are a humorous way to deal with a pretty common problem. If only it was that easy to tilt your head and understand what the hell another person meant. I wasn't entirely sure about the meaning of the next images. Here's what I took away: I'm picturing someone with a burlap sack placed over their head. I don't get the feeling that there are any eye slits, and when you add to the image by calling it a gray-shadowed sleeve I imagine it as close fitting, as pervasive as their own shadow, and also something that permanently mutes the vibrant colors they're exposed to. The person in this condition probably takes the view if all you have is a hammer everything looks like a nail...everything must be pounded into conformity (I'm free associating a little, but that is my take away).

I can’t find the itch that straddles my back,
though I seek it with your blank stare
and scratch with the fangs that ride
upon your tepid breath

In so many ways, this poem rises and falls on word choice. The speaker seems to be communicating the level of disapproval the other person gives. I love the idea of an itch straddling a back. Straddle is such a good word. There is a sense of lounging (a lazy irritation, a buzzing mosquito, etc). That the speaker can't find the itch is just another way of saying that they don't connect with the other person. Their irratated but can't pinpoint the full reason. Or put another way, they're conflicted. Blank stare and tepid breath convey a lukewarm, bland person. The fangs seem a little out of place for me too menacing. That could just be my read. I can see how you could be saying look this looks harmless but it's incidious--that's fair. I just feel a little conflicted between viewing this muted cripple with that level of threat. A couple minor points, I do love fangs that ride (and the line break). I also keep wanting to cut with and replace it with in "...your blank stare" pretty minor though.

I know the blood has been freed from my skin
by the footprints you leave with my shoes
as you waltz carefree into the cave
to drink from the Lethe once more

The first line of S3 is really evocative. This has the level of careless menace that I think the earlier lines were lacking. The fangs felt more purposeful. I wonder if the shoes line implies that the person is a master at the hurting the other person with their own words or actions. I like the carefree waltz. While I think the Lethe is good in some ways, as it implies they continue to do the same thing over and over again without conscious memory. It could be more menacing. I was thinking you could get the same idea across by just making the person more mechanical (arthur murray dance steps, etc)...just a thought.

I stand before the mirror and you, knives sheathed,
try to suture my skin to my bloodied clothes,
not realising that it is not wholeness I desire,
but fragmented honesty

I'm not really a fan of knives sheathed here I think it robs a little of the power from the horrific image in the first two lines. These are some of the strongest lines and strike me as the core idea. The wholeness in view is interesting. Wholeness on the speaker's terms would probably be fine, but this is like asking an alien species to come upon a human being and try to "fix" it based on how their biology works. Wholeness on the other's terms would be terrifying and the best it would be is a surface suturing (very bride of frankenstein)

Sometimes I wonder if I’d be happier like this,
with my eyes pleasantly scaled and dark
and no questing blades to score my flesh
with lines not parallel like yours

This proposition is equal in terror to the last. It's the idea of giving up. I love eyes pleasantly scaled and dark. I like the use of score as it implies a type of blade. And finally there's the realization of the futility of seeing things in this way and an understanding of the cost of it all.

but I don’t think I can breathe
underground

And you leave us with a shadowed morlock existence...I think the ending works. Another optioin would be to move this up and end on fragmented honesty. Something to consider, though I think I like the tone more in this ending. There's more resignation in it.

I felt a little all over the place with that critique. Hopefully, you'll get something out of it.

Best,

Todd