Dear Arthur,
I always enjoy reading your work, but must confess I had a big problem with
this one. I've seen other comments about it, and I'm aware it's probably
just me,but...
I'm uncomfortable about the tone of this poem,which is almost 'jokey' at
the beginning, then moving to the description of the child, which is
extended and detailed until it strikes me as unnecessarily cruel. 'She
honks' made me cringe, for instance, but it continued in the same vein.
For me, the ending doesn't redeem the preceding description,the 'mockery'
doesn't seem to come from the child. For me, it's as if you're hiding behind
the 'we' in the poem to display verbal pyrotechnics without any heart.
Kind regards,
grasshopper
Turbulence
South of Faro, homeward bound,
the sky's titanic fists hammer our fragile wings.
Ping! Fasten your seat belts!
Unloose the butterflies of terror!
Let fly the birds of blood
to fluster in our throats!
Down the aisle the ravaged child,
slack-jawed, unfocussed eyes,
head rolling like a sea-tossed skiff,
supported by her father, she honks,
flaps thin arms, flutters slender fingers,
spools threads of space into vaporous skeins.
They wait outside the toilet,
legs twitch and we politely tolerate
the danse macabre of this broken marionette.
Another thunderous blow reverberates,
our startled eyes engage a grin
she dredges from some pool of mockery deep within.
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