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The Deck

Some mattoid is giving birth
in the city’s darkroom.

Her tears shade winter’s bowels,
and the feathers flossing the mayor

captioned laughter is cruel as this moon,
a craft of brewery, a craft of lonely spells,

A superstitious murder in the codex
homebound orphans count on,

Right to the point their rifled injuries
send them after one another.

In the theatre’s photo collage
I see a blue eye peek out

and two sunglassed children
parachuting into fences.

These panoramas are fashioned
digital filigrees, celluloid's medusa
hair , this fugue; and yet
the organ will play even on us.

I laugh and the fireflies eat
what I haven’t yet risked.

The next candy plume to be bit.
Our names haven’t been surrendered

yet, not all. Thank you for my candy cane
sweater, woman of indigo color eclipse,

I hope you read this telegram
written in invisible ink, pop lights,

and the peeling of these faces
in a clay factory where no one

seems to be.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 

Comments

Had to look up a few words (fugue, mattoid) on this one, which I think is a good thing. Learning new words and broadening my vocabulary never hurts! I feel a definite sadness and bitterness with these panoramas. Even the wintery images somehow remind me of the feeling of oppressive heat here in the NC summers. There's always those images of happy fun summer vacations, but I never relate to those and the actual summertime never feels like that. It just feels like misery, and I can imagine that sweaty sticky feeling from this poem. I'm not sure if that is what you intended, but it was there for me.

A little something: did you mean for the lines starting with "These panoramas" to become a quatrain? The four lines are joined on my screen, but it could just be a typo or a Neopoet formatting issue.

Hope this message finds you well, would love an update on your editing/publishing work. :)
Kelsey

Advocates Coordinator

Critique, don't comment.

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didn't intend to make you miserable, of course, but if that's what you sense is behind the poem, that's that! lol. I experiment with different poetic devices, so a quatrain might have been what I was thinking of: indeed, formal poetry is often what I prefer, I just don't always post them here. The summertime can be oppressive in an ephemeral, disturbing way. I'll PM you about my recent literary stuff.

author comment

The poem is stunning and well-crafted; the images are just powerfully evocative!

Kelsey

Advocates Coordinator

Critique, don't comment.

To see our learning resources, click the "Curated Resources" link under the Resources tab in the top menu bar.

www.kelsey-burroughs.weebly.com

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