Your cleverly well placed thoughts into words and verse make me sigh for the memory of days long gone by.

we are etched hard chrome
hanging bent crowns
on loves throne
an empty chair
the wilds in our hair

how we hunger and feed
a salvation of madness

always, Cat

‘’how we hunger and feed
a salvation of madness…’’Esker

it’s a lost desire in youth
we see nothing beyond
those short levels
smooch
vouch safe and splash
all our thoughts and medals
and as we dream of the covers under darkness
all is sheltered down below
none of us know
how to go
but we do go....

and out past the clatter of
the old electric sign
blinking in the static of
winters first rush

the snow fell (white as
a hookers jacket) suggests the hooker's jacket is falling, i'd cut this or rewrite it
rabbit soft and quick

beacon winking on the hill
and tractors hauling freight
shifting down and idling
at the light
these 3 Ss are the best in the poem they are down to earth and free of poetic artifice and i'd cut what's above and start it here.
we are amber ambiance
drugged with the hopeless
cause this is less successful since it veers into abstraction "hopeless' 'cause'

we are etched hard chrome
hanging bent crowns how could you move to hang anything anything if you are 'etched hard crome', the metaphor is incoherent.
on loves throne
an empty chair
the wilds in our hair the rhyme of hair and chair is corny and obtrusive

how we hunger and feed
a salvation of madness nice line but what does it mean? do you really think a deseased brain is the same as resurrection and life everlasting?

our shoulders scraping
walls beneath boiler
pipes and your laugh
turning that corner
and lingering
like a wind you come back here to powerful simplicity that captures your emotions with clear and wonderful language. don't be seduced by your facility for words. you have a great gift but
less is still more
kind regards
ross