John Doe

[Deor Ana Log]

one shot echoes

Like a doe in headlights
my car approaches me
flowers are the only faces
I accept
still
a uniform evicts me
from my property
he asks my name, I say
“I don’t know”

segue to night
when my blood was beeswax
honey dripping from both wrists
hand swelling like a berry bush
it was too dark to see
to take risk after risk
until the porch light met my features
then I slipped gloves on
and went into wind folds again

tonight, one by one
I am in horror, real
can’t run away
can’t want to wake
when I do I
Don’t know

The farm is pigs and sheep and
syllables
corn season is almost upon - me
the tractor is brown instead of 
blank red
the field is empty instead of 
brown cement
there are times I ran in circles
when I was eight
breathless
now when I have too much
breathe
it is never enough
to wait for

if my mouth was flat
I am just a husk
my mom left town
the stress too much
the sun grew up
our barn warm enough
papa fell in love
but not with us

tonight, one by one
I am horror reels
run out
of tape
can’t want to wake
when I do I 
Stop dead

my friends went to
a school I don’t know
if they ever were true
some dreams are indigo
some aren’t even that

"please don't approach me"
flowers the only faces
as uniform evicts me
my poverty, my poverty
asks my name, so I say
“I don’t know”
and he calls me

one shot echoes until my thoughts don't anymore

[matsunosuperfan]

Like a deer in headlights
the car approaches me
flowers are the only faces
I accept
yet a uniform evicts me
from my property
he asks my name, I say
“I don’t know”
and he calls me

segue to night
when my blood was beeswax
the honey that dripped from wrist
hand swelling like a berry bush
it was too dark to see
any of this
until the porch light met my features
then I slipped gloves on
and went into wind folds again

tonight, one by one
I am in horror reals
can’t blink away
can’t want to wake
when I do I am 
John Doe

The farm is pigs and sheep and
syllables
corn season is almost upon - me
the tractor is brown instead of 
blank red
the field is empty instead of 
brown cement
there are times I ran in circles
when I was eight
breathless
now when I have too much
breathe
it is never enough
to wait for

if my mouth was flat
I am just a husk
my mom left town
the stress was too much
my son grew up
our barn was too warm
papa fell in love
but not with us

tonight, one by one
I am in horror reels
can’t blank away
can’t want to wake
when I do I am 
John Doe

my friends went to
a school I don’t know
if they ever were true
some dreams are indigo
some aren’t even that

the car approaches me
flowers are the only faces
a uniform evicts me
my property
asks my name, so I say
“I don’t know”
and he calls me

Wtf this is fire 
Will digest more and attempt notes after work

[Bruce V]

Like a deer in headlights
the car approaches me
flowers are the only faces
I accept
yet a uniform evicts me
from my property
he asks my name, I say
“I don’t know”
and he calls me

segue to night
when my blood was beeswax
the honey that dripped from wrist
hand swelling like a berry bush
it was too dark to see
any of this
until the porch light met my features
then I slipped gloves on
and went into wind folds again

tonight, one by one
I am in horror reals
can’t blink away
can’t want to wake
when I do I am 
John Doe

The farm is pigs and sheep and
syllables
corn season is almost upon - me
the tractor is brown instead of 
blank red
the field is empty instead of 
brown cement
there are times I ran in circles
when I was eight
breathless
now when I have too much
breathe
it is never enough
to wait for

if my mouth was flat
I am just a husk
my mom left town
the stress was too much
my son grew up
our barn was too warm
papa fell in love
but not with us

tonight, one by one
I am in horror reels
can’t blank away
can’t want to wake
when I do I am 
John Doe

my friends went to
a school I don’t know
if they ever were true
some dreams are indigo
some aren’t even that

the car approaches me
flowers are the only faces
a uniform evicts me
my property
asks my name, so I say
“I don’t know”
and he calls me

This certainly drew me in and made me want to keep reading.  An evocative use of images.  How much is biographical and how much fictional, I don't know.  But I get a sense of strength conveyed from a place of vulnerability.

[Deor Ana Log]

Like a deer in headlights
the car approaches me
flowers are the only faces
I accept
yet a uniform evicts me
from my property
he asks my name, I say
“I don’t know”
and he calls me

segue to night
when my blood was beeswax
the honey that dripped from wrist
hand swelling like a berry bush
it was too dark to see
any of this
until the porch light met my features
then I slipped gloves on
and went into wind folds again

tonight, one by one
I am in horror reals
can’t blink away
can’t want to wake
when I do I am 
John Doe

The farm is pigs and sheep and
syllables
corn season is almost upon - me
the tractor is brown instead of 
blank red
the field is empty instead of 
brown cement
there are times I ran in circles
when I was eight
breathless
now when I have too much
breathe
it is never enough
to wait for

if my mouth was flat
I am just a husk
my mom left town
the stress was too much
my son grew up
our barn was too warm
papa fell in love
but not with us

tonight, one by one
I am in horror reels
can’t blank away
can’t want to wake
when I do I am 
John Doe

my friends went to
a school I don’t know
if they ever were true
some dreams are indigo
some aren’t even that

the car approaches me
flowers are the only faces
a uniform evicts me
my property
asks my name, so I say
“I don’t know”
and he calls me

This certainly drew me in and made me want to keep reading.  An evocative use of images.  How much is biographical and how much fictional, I don't know.  But I get a sense of strength conveyed from a place of vulnerability.

It is 80% fictional (I don't have son, live on a farm ect) and 20% real, since I do feel like John Doe much of the time.

[matsunosuperfan]

Like a deer in headlights     a feint at cliche...
the car approaches me     ...immediately and provocatively subverted
flowers are the only faces
I accept     great line that has me searching for the implication 
yet a uniform evicts me    nice metonymy. I would prefer "but" to "yet" because I'm super duper American + a stickler for avoiding even a whiff of anachronism. 
from my property     subtle work with it being "my" property despite being evicted
he asks my name, I say
“I don’t know”
and he calls me      nah you gotta save this for the end!! plus I think the segue (hehe) into "segue to night" is smoother with a caesura here 

segue to night
when my blood was beeswax
the honey that dripped from wrist     "from wrist" = poemy syntax, blech
hand swelling like a berry bush
it was too dark to see
any of this
until the porch light met my features
then I slipped gloves on
and went into wind folds again    I think this is by far the weakest stanza. some interesting tone/mood of botanical dread eventually develops, but overall it feels dangerously loose, a bit too much unmoored abstraction maybe. 

tonight, one by one
I am in horror reals  not sure exactly what this means but it's scary and visceral
can’t blink away
can’t want to wake
when I do I am 
John Doe   not sure what this means in the context of the poem 

The farm is pigs and sheep and
syllables
corn season is almost upon - me
the tractor is brown instead of 
blank red
the field is empty instead of 
brown cement
there are times I ran in circles
when I was eight
breathless
now when I have too much
breathe
it is never enough
to wait for   this stanza is really immersive. again I feel kinda lost in terms of literal interpretation, but I don't mind too much. there's a strong through line of emotion: disorientation, confusion, wrongness, misalignment

if my mouth was flat
I am just a husk
my mom left town
the stress was too much
my son grew up
our barn was too warm
papa fell in love
but not with us interesting run, almost too much fragmentation? wants to be dramatic but I can't help feeling it becomes almost comical by the end of this stanza, since each couplet is so parallel in structure (if my mouth was flat, my son grew up, you put your left hand in, put your left hand out...) 

tonight, one by one
I am in horror reels
can’t blank away
can’t want to wake
when I do I am 
John Doe  wait are these song lyrics? I don't think the refrain is effective.

my friends went to
a school I don’t know
if they ever were true
some dreams are indigo
some aren’t even that      very luminous verse moments here 

the car approaches me
flowers are the only faces
a uniform evicts me
my property
asks my name, so I say
“I don’t know”
and he calls me    can't say I have much use for these repetitions, except for the last one

Overall this has a lot of very compelling language. I struggle to find a consistent sensibility, but mostly I'm okay with that. Sometimes I think the poem tips its hand, and sometimes it seems to get maybe a bit more carried away than is productive. Good bones. Prune and shape, methinks.

[Deor Ana Log]

Like a deer in headlights     a feint at cliche...
the car approaches me     ...immediately and provocatively subverted
flowers are the only faces
I accept     great line that has me searching for the implication 
yet a uniform evicts me    nice metonymy. I would prefer "but" to "yet" because I'm super duper American + a stickler for avoiding even a whiff of anachronism. 
from my property     subtle work with it being "my" property despite being evicted
he asks my name, I say
“I don’t know”
and he calls me      nah you gotta save this for the end!! plus I think the segue (hehe) into "segue to night" is smoother with a caesura here 

segue to night
when my blood was beeswax
the honey that dripped from wrist     "from wrist" = poemy syntax, blech
hand swelling like a berry bush
it was too dark to see
any of this
until the porch light met my features
then I slipped gloves on
and went into wind folds again    I think this is by far the weakest stanza. some interesting tone/mood of botanical dread eventually develops, but overall it feels dangerously loose, a bit too much unmoored abstraction maybe. 

tonight, one by one
I am in horror reals  not sure exactly what this means but it's scary and visceral
can’t blink away
can’t want to wake
when I do I am 
John Doe   not sure what this means in the context of the poem 

The farm is pigs and sheep and
syllables
corn season is almost upon - me
the tractor is brown instead of 
blank red
the field is empty instead of 
brown cement
there are times I ran in circles
when I was eight
breathless
now when I have too much
breathe
it is never enough
to wait for   this stanza is really immersive. again I feel kinda lost in terms of literal interpretation, but I don't mind too much. there's a strong through line of emotion: disorientation, confusion, wrongness, misalignment

if my mouth was flat
I am just a husk
my mom left town
the stress was too much
my son grew up
our barn was too warm
papa fell in love
but not with us interesting run, almost too much fragmentation? wants to be dramatic but I can't help feeling it becomes almost comical by the end of this stanza, since each couplet is so parallel in structure (if my mouth was flat, my son grew up, you put your left hand in, put your left hand out...) 

tonight, one by one
I am in horror reels
can’t blank away
can’t want to wake
when I do I am 
John Doe  wait are these song lyrics? I don't think the refrain is effective.

my friends went to
a school I don’t know
if they ever were true
some dreams are indigo
some aren’t even that      very luminous verse moments here 

the car approaches me
flowers are the only faces
a uniform evicts me
my property
asks my name, so I say
“I don’t know”
and he calls me    can't say I have much use for these repetitions, except for the last one

Overall this has a lot of very compelling language. I struggle to find a consistent sensibility, but mostly I'm okay with that. Sometimes I think the poem tips its hand, and sometimes it seems to get maybe a bit more carried away than is productive. Good bones. Prune and shape, methinks.

thank you for the feedback, I will go back through a revise it with some of your notes. Thank you for reading! ps. yes it could be a song

---

I have revised this poem based on constructive feedback, and it is ready to be read.