~Fallen~

[Todd]

Hi Fugazi, you have some nice things going on here. Here are comments for you. Hopefully some of them will be helpful to you.

Fallen feels like a bit of a bland title. I also think your first line feels a bit flat. It might work better as a title "A Rye Life" and just start the poem at L2.

She’d had a rye life,
whisky eyes
seen through ice cube charms,--for me, the addition of charms and pedestal in the next line feels to artificially added on. It could just be me but I think the lines would be better without those final end words (in the ice cube line if you'd probably want to make them ice cubes if you made the cut)
propped up on a bar stool pedestal
accepting only liquid worship -

no chasers for her,

and I caught her eye--Maybe add a "then" after the and
as she swept the bump ‘n’ grind persona
of Friday night whores,--I liked these two lines
draped Dali like across wide-boys arms.[b]--I like draped Dali like quite a bit (might need a hypen after Dali)...it's a very visual image that you could play with more if you wanted too warping and melting the perceptions more.

Her half moon smile
tainted by nicotine clouds--has sort of a cheshire quality to it
as they fought to escape
the confines of an inhale,
and me the rabbit in headlights glare,--the entire in the headlights thing is a bit cliche you could probably just have the rabbit frozen in some way
tongue tied to this table,--tongue tied also is a bit cliche you can come up with something better
nursing a misplaced conception.--Maybe add a comparison to a type of frivolous or ill-conceived mixed drink

She was slick as she oozed
through the waves of melded bodies,--this is sort of an echo to the Dali line that you could establish more earlier perhaps
caught in a chimera of sex and music;
a deep throb within.--I don't mind the deep throb line but maybe pull it up to the sex line and let the line break reveal that it is also the deep throb of the music also. It might make the lines more interesting.

Another notch to be nicked--here you play with the notch on the bedpost but the playground stick makes it less cliche and more interesting. The cadence and the rhyme give it a childlike game quality to it--even though the context is older. I like this sequence
in her playground stick,
a passing phase
in her latest craze,

she was warm in my lap
like a pile of bones before the pyre,--I wouldn't normally think of before the pyre as warm though I realize that the waiting implies waiting to ignite. I'm just not sure that the image conveys warmth to me.
waiting .. just waiting,

and I found I could climb
the ladder of her spine, though her heart
had escaped that cage long ago,--I like these two lines quite a bit. It strips away the sensuality.
all I could see was my dignity
lying discarded on an unmade bed,--I don't think you need lying

and her proclaiming
“I used to be a lady.”

I enjoyed the read. Again, hope some of that was helpful.

Best,

Todd