not showing up

[scraps]

Too Soon

Why haven’t we left yet?

We were seduced by the scraping

of a butter knife on toast and the smell

of other people’s homes, that’s why.

Someone is swinging a flashlight

tied to a bungee cord above their head;

the adopted children ride motorcycles

and howl with the greatest happiness.

I hope they all die.

[Scrow]

Hi Steve,

"Reverse the Order' is a very clever concept, black humour, a touch of horror and sadness, too. I love the accountant image.

'Too Soon' feels like the start of a dystopian novel or film - the images are very cleverly done - and I like how you've the homely sound and scent of toast in there, too.

Sarah

[chiralia]

Hi Steve,

I really like the images in "Too Soon", the "scraping of a butter knife on toast" is a live, palpable sound as is "howl with the greatest happiness". I laughed at how all these images ended in the last cynical line. This cynicism reminds me of me. : )

[Dunc]

Steve

Blooming ─ It's like a sum-over-histories in a quantum calculation, all the possible paths this thought can take. Nicely done!

Reverse the Order to See How it Ends ─ Ten nine eight seven six five ... the countdown done in colours, but no less a countdown and no less dark for that.

Too Soon ─ Very effective, the way the last line redirects the poem. It might suggest a pair of imps down on their luck, prowling, taking what comes. On the other hand, that may be more specific than required.

Your poems have an enviable skill with suggestion and provocation, and the avoidance of anchors.

Regards / Dunc

[scraps]

Thanks Sarah, chiralia and Dunc! Your attention is invaluable.

[scraps]

Not an Astronaut

Let them catch you eating

a piece of brightly coloured fruit

or sipping a drink through a straw.

A touchdown is six points or seven

or sometimes eight. Say a little to the left

when they ask how’s it hanging but

do not stop to talk. Only speak English

and as little of that as possible. Smile.

Nod. You can cry in the car.

[Janelo]

I like how Too Soon and Not An Astronaut share a structure of nine lines, each of them a loosely associated set of images that suggest an existential ambivalence, the experience of a visitor in a strange place, or maybe just the strangeness of the world itself to a complicated character who entertains serious revelations about life.

Too Soon almost feels like observations made during travel to a developing country. The final line is stark and takes a sudden turn that plays off of the title (I mean really, when is it not too soon to hope they all die?) but the meaning does not come off as literal, or certainly murderous, but rather opens the door to consider possibilities. Everyone dies sooner or later, no? This poem reminded me of a favorite song of mine that I think you might enjoy. The Mountain Goats -- No Children.

Not An Astronaut comes across as a set of masculine expectations that can be toyed with at the expense of feeling secure in the world.

Each of these two conveys a feeling without laying out a scene. They hang quite well together.

Good to see you showing up.

Jane

[scraps]

Thanks for the comments and song recommendation, Jane!

[scraps]

MOM WERE OKAY

s w e a r

XOXO

[Jee Leong]

Hi, Steve. "Reverse the Order"—after the naked accountant, the image of the mud is even more menacing. "Too Soon" made me laugh out loud, very inappropriately. "Not an Astronaut" is another fine demonstration of your way with rhetoric and imagery. Does nothing faze you? I read "MOM WERE OKAY" as "Mom, we're okay," but of course it could be mom alone who is doing well. Much stimulated by these poems.

[Scrow]

'Not an astronaut' has some fab images, paints a picture of strangeness, isolation in a way which is never dull. Your poetry is never dull. I love the short from yesterday, which reads like found graffiti or a postcard from teens, or a student under COVID lockdown in a bedsit. It's ambiguous with a hint of menace, too. I imagine you slipping a sliver of menace into these in the same way that most people add a slice of lemon to tea, or gin.

Sarah

[scraps]

Thanks, Jee and Sarah for stopping by to read and comment! Jee, I think I always fazed. Sarah, I love the idea of asking someone if they'd like a sliver of menace in their gin.

[scraps]

headspace < .atelier..> meatspace

I’ve never heard the word atelier said out loud. So,
it hangs in a spectral space with the other words
that I’ve seen on a page but have yet to touch me
with their unique frequencies. I often find it looking elegant
between quotation marks and I twist my braintongue
to form the thought of a sound while I imagine pronouncing
it in front of a crowd of people who don’t know that I am
the imposter who has been stuffing himself with their hors
d’oeuvres. I imagine someone saying the word back to me,
effortlessly at first, then slowly like I am a child. The sound
is so different, I am almost depressed. Then I remember
a new space; one where I summered in Paris instead
of running the grill at Wendy’s Old Fashioned Hamburgers
and I am walking home from the atelier and I am so so bored.

[kristalynn]

Your latest is relatable, those words you pretty much only see in print. The ending is great too, the realization of boredom.

[tweeds]

Steve, I'm really enjoying the restrained tone in Not an Astronaut. It feels apropos to the subject that the diction is as clipped as it is. I'm interested in your choices of cultural markers, in the fruit, the drink, American football, conversational conventions, etc., as it feels like they reflect the speaker's own decisions about how to behave, speak, understand, and process the daily aspects of American(?) life. In turn, they feel precise in part because of the diction, clipped tone, full stops, etc. The restraint sets up beautifully for the flood of the emotional finish.