nice......

--
~*Samantha*~

A thief, a whore, and a liar...

MainAccount: ~kinkykitty2413

conrete - typo?

you're saying "her" a lot in the second stanza, slightly repetitive not in terms of word choice but structuring each new point that you make

daring lost eyes to wander - I think you could find a better word than wander

I loved the overriding theme of the morning rush on the train, it wasn't overbearing or forced, but held the piece together nicely. Your language is well chosen, concise and not a great deal of unnecessary words.

--
Days of wine and roses, days of wine and roses
All the artists flew in and all the arseholes flew out in '72


<`MinorKey> and don't drink so much that you remember having fun...

i really like this poem.. to me it sounds like you're introducing another side of yourself... a more grown up and ... sexy... for lack of a better word at the moment (my mind is numb) side.
anyways, i like it a lot.

--
there's love
and
there's hate
but
it's all about
you

Boomshakalaka.

This is freaking nifty - I REALLY dig this a whole lot. Lots of cool stuff going on (for example, discussions of no punctuation where there literally is none (OK, there's a little, but not much)) and other subtleties. Nice nice nice.

Red pen: concrete (as noted by another reader before me) and fluorescent.

I've got my fave wand out for this one...

--
Suture Editor

[link]

This was absolutely excellent. I'm a sucker for well-done urban imagery, but this really went beyond that and became a kind of grotesque but strong and poetic life-story, riddled with a sexual dimension. Despite the use of both the first and third person, I am convinced that the poem only has one actual subject. Anyway: on! Roughly line by line, if that's alright (and please forgive the length.. Brevity is not my strong suite. ).

The first stanza is a perfect introduction, to the speaker and to her setting as well as to the less concrete subjects of the poem. The wording and description create quite a gritty, ugly scene which I was loath to realise at first because of the romanticism I tie habitually to the city (it's something I've only semi-recently started doing). The word 'descending' already suffuses the piece with a tone of descension (duh) and negativity, and after having read the poem the word seems clearly to be an image of the stairs or escalators to a metro or train station; for some reason I get a distinctly metro-feel of this milieu, not sure why. Especially ' street-sleepers' (another negative reference, to homelessness and uncleanliness) reminded me of the scene in The Matrix where Neo battles Smith for the first time. Don't laugh! That visual scene possesses a very distinct duality that I see in this poem also, being both dirty/horrid and grungy/romantic at the same time. The city-feel in the stanza is brought about very subtly, as I realise upon looking at the individual words. The only really urban terms used (J train, commuters, street, paper-bag[-in-hand]) are general and are not expounded on, relying on the reader's inevitable associations to bring about the image.
Another subtlety in this stanza is the sexual tension, which begins here to build up boldly but yet delicately. The sensuality of 'the hot breath' of line 2 is something of a precursor and mood-setter for what follows; 'skirts flowing open' leaves little ambiguity, but the effect is not overly explicit because of the rest of the minimalistic imagery. The fact that the skirts flow open 'before / commuters and street sleepers' gives a kind of voyeuristic feel to this occurrence; the heavily euphemistic 'clockwork' refers also to the modern-ish setting. Not only the woman's "clockwork" but also the city itself is mouldering, decomposing; you very indirectly (and maybe unintentionally) invoke the image of rust, connoting decadence. The ' pretense of girlhood' seals the innuendo, and the extremely important facet of appearance vs. reality is raised too.

All the allusions to movement, decadence, the city etc. are laid bare and expounded on in the second stanza. The lack of balance insinuated in ' stumble' is metaphorical to the state of the woman in question (who I can now reveal I conceive to be a prostitute), and to the setting itself; the idea used here is of something being out of balance, or skewed and wrong. Words that indicate this dereliction or a sense of harshness (creaking, cracked, splayed, moldy, pinioned) are used, again very adeptly so that the effect is created but the cause of it is not overstated.
Now perhaps the most important line of the poem is the second of this stanza, where the city is personified for the first time ('her creaking'). I adore the concept of the city as some collective singularity, personable and human, and have used it myself at least once. Here, though, the city serves a dual purpose because on one hand all of the described events and situations are a metpahorical way to describe the city/metro in its decadent condition; but on the other it is almost as if the city is the alter ego of the first-person speaker, like a person she 'uses' as a shield or cloak (l. 23).

i felt the city stumble
It is in fact the prostitute herself that is stumbling, perhaps from the force of the 'hot breath' of the train in the first stanza.

heard her creaking beneath / cracked tiles, splayed / upright. (by luck.)
If 'her' is first taken to be the city itself, it is curious that the city (an entity composed of all the lesser parts described throughout) 'creaks beneath tiles', since this implies that the 'tiles' are not a part of the city. Indeed this instance and several others imply rather that "the city / she" is really the earth, the ground, not the city as a whole. This of course has connotions of 'Mother Nature' etc. via the feminine pronoun, which is hugely ironic considering my view that the female figure in the poem is a prostitute! In any case, looking at these lines as description of the female character, cracked tiles could well mean her make-up; underneath her pretense, she hears herself 'creaking', which in turn can be seen as a symbol of old age (creaking joints, rocking chair, etc.) - but I won't go quite that far. An emotional, inner breakdown of sorts seems more plausible.
The subject is changed somewhat, as I see it, with the phrase 'splayed / upright' since the first word is normally used of legs and might be seen as something of an oxymoron of 'upright' (the sense of balance is used here again). But no real subject change occurs, since it is still the city that is in question. The sense of being run-down or dishevelled is conveyed with '(by luck)', as though the city would not stay upright otherwise; I also get a feeling as though the city being upright was an unusual thing, implying that it is normally lying down. The sexual connotations of this are obvious.

her bosom corseted in moldy concrete, her / tunnels pinioned with rusty girder stays, / petrol / perfuming her creases
The rest of the stanza continues both the 'age' and the 'sex' themes in its imagery, very adeptly and without breaking the train of thought (which may be in part due to the lack of capitalisation, since a sense of continuity is created that way). The creases of line 16 are the most obvious allusion to old age; moldy likewise, except that it also adds to the feeling of uncleanliness that the words rusty and petrol also induce. As for the sexual facet, bosom and perfum[e] are the most obvious indicators, but their use is still thankfully unobtrusive. Another reference I see is tunnels, i.e. the woman's genitalia, 'pinioned' to their social definition (women as sex objects, for instance).

This entire stanza is great, but I would like to see a verb somewhere in lines 13-16; e.g. "her tunnels lie pinioned to ...". OR as a better alternative, you could/should lose both periods in line 12 (one of them is superfluous anyway), because if 13-16 were still a part of the previous phrase the lack of a verb would not matter.

The expounding that occurs in the third stanza is very good, the tone remains consistent while the imagery changes and advances. The age-aspect seems now to end, and even the sexuality is toned down a little bit but at the same time reinforced in the guise of sensuality (e.g. with words like voluptuous); this is largely due to the fact that the verbs are now less violent or gritty, even bawdy allusions are made less concretely.
Lines 17-19 voice again the appearance/reality dichotomy that was raised in the first stanza and which dominates the poem as a whole; benchside assumes two different 'sides', one presumably the real world and the other its outskirts (excuse the pun). It is in these outer, 'un-real' regions that the woman now waits, though for what or whom is not clear to the reader or to herself (though considering my prostitute-theory, a customer is a likely bet). The contrast in the phrase 'my legs / spread like her rivers' represents the entire woman/city duality, of one actually being the other. The mention of a river (a spiritual, naturalistic word) connotes water and therefore fluids, and in connection to 'legs' this is of course another sexual reference. Water has always been a symbol of life or of a life-force, and since the expression used is specifically "her rivers", 'she' being the earth/Mother Nature, the raunchy simile turns out to be very ironic indeed. This is because 'rivers' as I said is a romantic word to use, and Mother Nature is always a maternal, enigmatic figure; spread legs daring lost eyes to wander represent the more grotesque end of this spectrum, even though the element of Life is present. Also, another thing that adds to the grotesquity is the phrase lost eyes, since it is the 'lost' and the 'street sleepers', the unredeemable, who are invited to her legs.
This motive of redemption or of being saved is used in the next line also. "No lifeguard on duty" refers back to the river, now in the unconscious form of a beach; a lifeguard's duty is to assure the safety of the people at the beach, he acts as a kind of saviour and guardian. This figure is not "on duty" in the life of this woman, i.e. there is nobody who could save her from her situation. I say "her situation" as though it were inherently a bad place to be, but this is only because the imagery in the poem has been darkly negative so far, especially in reference to this female character (who acts also as the speaker). But, trite enough to be funny though it is, the idea of a 'hooker with a heart of gold' is what the speaker represents to me; in other words, appearance vs. reality (and I'll get to the justification of this soon).
You make the personification of the earth/city/Nature ('her') very tangible throughout the piece, from the first subtle introduction in the second stanza to the flourishing end. Here in the third stanza, the repetition of ' spread' is a part of this tangibility: the conceit 'spreads' through the whole poem. Mention is also given to a body part in both lines 17/18 and 21, where the repetition occurs, and a link is established even if neither the legs or hands are given as characteristics of this enigmatic 'She'.
The 'wandering eyes' become 'searching hands' in line 21, but though the sexual tension grows a little, words like searching and texture make sure that the effect is not gritty or banal. The whole idea of 'searching for some texture' is a little unclear to me. One interpretation is that the 'lost' use the speaker's services as a way to maybe find some excitement or interest ('texture') in their lives; another is that the speaker herself spreads her hands, but apart from the given reading I don't know what 'texture' could mean in that case. The age-motive is another possibility: the 'lines in thighs' signify age the same way as 'creases' (l. 16) did, but not in the sense of time/years necessarily. It's all about relativity: because the speaker's life is a constant stumbling and waiting, it is devoid of purpose. Because of this, she feels 'old' in that she can't imagine her life as progressing into comfort anymore (line 24 is a weak attempt at self-respect on her part, even then veiled in a false skin). Now the motive of 'age' could, on one hand, connote wisdom and understanding gained from experience; this is what I see ' texture' as, some sign of maturity and growth. But she cannot find this evidence, because she is not actually aged, simply stuck in her life in relative terms.
This makes her character exceedingly tragic for me, and the theme of appearance and reality now actually becomes a question of psychological self, rather than ontology; or quality of life rather than existence. Only when she is 'clothed in ["her"] heat and mysteries' is she voluptuous; this is difficult to conceive of, even disregarding the irony for a moment, because of the subtly intense grotesqueness having been piled on prior to the statement. Her 'voluptuousness' seems perverted or at least unreal, deepening the tragedy.

The final stanza is the most positive of the four by far; it is here that my earlier 'heart of gold' view is seen, i.e. that the speaker is not quite as tragic as the rest of the poem lets on. I'd go as far as to say that she is contemplative and strong, aware of her situation and in control of it. The deception is a part of her life that she comprehends, better than the reader, to be a necessity and thus no less tragic than any other way of coping with circumstances.
Necessity is echoed, for example, in ' the inevitable / morning commute', and it is precisely the word 'morning' and the implication of activity and awakening that gives the stanza a lighter air. In its light, the phrase ' dark secret air' which would normally be negative is made rather playfully mysterious and romantic (indeed I'm reminded of Blake quite vividly here); though aiding this is the word 'secret', which itself is not a negative word and connotes mystery in itself. The positive air seeps into the lines to follow as well; when the earth/city/Nature 'leaves' the speaker in line 27 it is conceived by the reader to be a good thing, because all of the dark, grotesque imagery used earlier to portray 'Her' is now seemingly neutralised as She departs. The idea of 'leaving' arises even though the use of the word is as a part of an idiom, 'she left me / holding the taste of her questions', because of the enjambement.
The entire 'questions' concept had me a little confused, and it was only through my own interpretation that I made sense of it. The idea used is quite obscure, the significance of these questions is not evident; the only clear thing I can comment on without really going into analysis is that the tone of finality and freshness that is delivered is due to the fact that the image of a parting of ways is coupled with unfulfilled answers: there are still issues to resolve, but it's as though the tone of this 'morning commute' is saying "There are questions that can, and should, wait." The positive air is partly also due to the word 'taste', which is here not emphasised as a bad taste and so is assumed to be good.
In any case, what I see the idea referring to is actually the speaker's questions and concerns, since it is she that wonders and works in the world as depicted by the poem. The 'city' really just is; it is 'splayed' after a stumble, and is a very passive entity despite the varied description. It is the speaker, who I'll again emphasise I see to be a hooker, who experiences the world. She describes herself (l. 24) whereas the city 'is described'.
I find the lines 'devoid of punctuation, besides / fluorescent glimpses between breaths' very beautiful, since it reinforces the connection between the speaker and the city and is a strong visual metaphor. What I get an image of is traffic lights; somehow they exemplify the 'punctuation' and 'glimpses' for me. The thing with traffic lights is that they only change in spurts. They'll stay green for a long time, then change abruptly to yellow and red; then stay again at red for a long time. Therefore it is only during a time of transition and alteration that the lights actually come alive, that's when they offer glimpses of colour instead of the one single blare at a time. In the poem, this alteration occurring is the City 'leaving' – and the only indication the speaker gets as to the nature of this mystery question the City leaves behind is in the lights, in the glimpses: in other words, in the little things. The answer to the question is the sum of all the minor existences and entities and events, and each correct answer is different because the question is not the same for any two people. What the City represents to the speaker, a mirror image of herself, is what drives the question.

The poem ends with a last reiteration of the power of 'Her'; even after conceptually leaving, the city is in the speaker's thoughts. This is because the City can never 'leave' the speaker, having been melded with one another in her thoughts and symbolic rationalisations. It is 'behind her tongue' that the City flourishes; I see this as a reference either (1) to the place under the tongue where the sense of taste is strongest, or (2) to 'behind the tongue' signifying the brain, her mind. It is there that she flourishes; it is there that 'she' is even 'She'.

As I remarked early on, this is a really brilliant work of poetry and a triumph of imagery. Each line is connected to the other, just like a city's complex streets and rails, and in the end even if the piece does not have some deep thematic motivation along the lines of what I've been musing, it is a great work of poetry simply for its subtle characterisation and extremely apt tone.
I do have a qualm with the piece as a whole despite this: the rhythm. For one, I can't imagine why you have refrained from using capital letters, it is distracting and even confusing when a period is followed by a lower-case letter; is the reader to assume that the rhythm is meant to go on, march on with rapidity even against what seems effective? Some of the enjambement is also awkward, and some sentences are cut up with commas in a way that makes the rhythm halting in places.

In any case, wonderful work.

--
but, mainly, Stay Classy

That's... the longest comment I've seen. wow.

--
"Above us, there is nothing above, but the stars, above"

Well. I have to admit at first I was skeptical about this comment because of its length - simply because this piece is what I suppose you could call a "rough" copy. I wrote it while waiting for the subway in New York, on a receipt from a Chinese restaurant. Imagine my surprise and delight that you not only appreciated the literary elements of this but understood them correctly, and even uniquely in your own way, drawing from your own experiences. This is why I could be a poet without regrets.

But on to the poem. I won't even expand on your observations, since really every piece of imagery in my poetry is intended, but happens in such a way that I find it distasteful to overrationalize it within the poem. That every reader could be as sensitive to these.

You hit the nail square on the head with "appearance vs. reality" I was struck by this theme while in the city, and in a way found myself branching off with personas, the voices and understones of that romantic, but gritty stirring life you find in urban scenes. I am the prosititute, (while not actually employed in that trade) the key word here is waiting. The speaker is waiting for whatever the reader decides. A customer, a hit, the train, enlightenment. These are all correct.

I can't even believe you picked these things out. This is better than Christmas. I did portray the speaker and city as women, being a woman, but for other reasons that the devices hopefully makes clear. They are different, separate, but the speaker draws on the city and the city "feels" if a city could, her sisterhood. The speaker realizes that she could in fact represent the city, but chooses to take a deeper, (I do not think optimistic would be accurate) view.

"Hands spread searching for some texture" is referring to the texture of life. She is looking for variety in people, the grains of wood on the bench, in the city, in herself. It is also in reference to the sense of age in the city and the idea that age is impending on the speaker's mind that you picked up.

The "Her" is indeed in reference to the Earth Mother aspect of the city. You were correct in the comparison of the tiles to her makeup. It is a part, and yet not a part of her.

The last thing I will clarify is the "flourescent glimpses between breaths" I am intrigued by your connection - it is in no way incorrect - but the reference was to the flashes of light between the subway cars. That whole section is really key to the piece in that it brings up the "questions." These are the questions asked by the woman, but presented or revealed to her by the city. I do apologise for the strange and choppy texture of this piece, I simply typed it as it was written and I do not write with capitals. Also i made an atrempt with language to mimic the language of the woman, of the city. "devoid of punctuation." But it is something i would seriously consider chinging if I ever attempted to publish this.

Thank you for this.

--
All I know is that I know nothing.

The pleasure was mine.
What delights me perhaps as much as the actual poem is knowing that real, earnest thought has gone into its creation. My realising what you were trying to communicate is only the manifestation of all the intent you yourself put into the piece, and I'm happy to congratulate you again. I'm thrilled to find a poem around here that can truly be called good without reservations.

--
but, mainly, Stay Classy