I'd start with the house. That's where the poem picks up life and
momentum. We don't need to hear that she knows the speaker misses her,
because she does know it and we know it, or can safely assume it. And we
don't need to hear that the speaker doesn't understand, because the
house's experience is mysterious and absorbing enough -- the reader can
be mystified all on his/her own.
andrew burke wrote:
> I've been fiddling with a poem overnight, to my wife who is on the
> other side of Australia at present, visiting her brothers. But I am
> doubtful as to its merit and feel it needs panel beating in some way.
> Please critique, if you have the time, and return. Thanks.
>
>
>
> MISSING YOU
>
>
> Other side of the nation rather than
> other side of the bed, and all that -
> nothing mysterious about it,
> you know I'm missing you. But
> what I don't understand is how
> the house is missing you. It whispers
> its discontent and keeps me up late
> with its incessant whining. Hear?
> The trick is to turn off, I suppose,
> switch off like the hot element in
> the bedside lamp just goes off
> when I press the plastic button
> at the stem beneath the shade.
> I keep wondering at the physics
> of the real world, not the metaphoric.
> That's life without you, a dozen
> details for each event – bringing in
> _The West Australian_, shaking it
> free of dew, watering your plants,
> then having to take off whatever
> footwear I've had on because
> I've watered them too. Detail.
> Like, I've never noticed atmospheric
> control lights in the refrigerator before.
> Beep, it complained, beep beep. Detail
> like that. I can tell you now, now that
> you are so far away, I can tell you
> how many steps it takes to
> go from front door to letterbox. No
> need to know that, but I do.
> The house rises before me
> and clears every room of any life
> that might be there to join me
> as I rise from this chair, walk out
> and say, 'Hello?' Nobody. I go to
> read your itinerary on the fridge again.
>
--
Tad Richards
http://www.opus40.org/tadrichards/
http://opusforty.blogspot.com/
The moral is this: in American verse,
The better you are, the pay is worse.
--Corey Ford
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