Judy - I am very happy you perceived the fun surface and the frightening
(threatening?) subtext. If I can jazz up the poem and retain that element,
I'll be a happy camper.
'Take yourself out of the poem' is certainly worth looking at - but this
poem may end up a companion piece, or even one of several, about this
neighbourhood. (Do you remember some weeks ago a poem about an old man in a
gopher outside the chemist's and a schoolboy who fell over and hurt himself?
"I" sat in the car and waited for my wife who was shopping.) This then would
need a figure throughout ... but certainly worth looking at. Could shake the
whole project up at this embryonic stage.
Andrew
2009/1/14 Judy Prince <[log in to unmask]>
> Andrew, your theme's hilarious and then frightening---and needs more power;
> that is, an intensification, single focus that might come from severe
> compression. Just a suggestion: Take yourself out of the poem, and take
> out the descriptions unless [very cryptic] of the speakers. My guess is
> that along the way you'll recall new descriptors, as well [whether of folks
> from that experience or others]. Have fun, Andrew; it's well worth the
> play.
> Best,
>
> Judy
>
> 2009/1/13 andrew burke <[log in to unmask]>
>
> > I proffer this one up for discussionm - a second draft, so not even set
> in
> > wet cement yet.
> >
> > *Coffee at Gloria Jean's*
> >
> >
> >
> > 'Keith the Butcher is better suited
> >
> > to conduct my funeral than
> >
> > Father Fahey,' Frank said in Gloria Jean's,
> >
> > the shopping centre café, coffee tasting
> >
> > of burnt tar, chocolate chip muffin
> >
> > crumbling on his off-white face.
> >
> > Mock-colonial windows framed smiling
> >
> > consumers sitting down to relieve aching backs
> >
> > and knotted varicose veins. 'None
> >
> > of that God stuff as they send me off,
> >
> > mate. Dead's dead, that's it.'
> >
> > I fore went a second cup, threaded
> >
> > my fingers through
> >
> > plastic hoops of supermarket
> >
> > bags, and stood to go. 'See ya, mate,'
> >
> > I said. 'Not if I see you first,' Frank retorted
> >
> > in place of wit. I waved
> >
> > a loose finger and headed for the car park,
> >
> > mentally ticking off the list as I went. Fingertips
> >
> > reddened and white welts pulsed as I
> >
> > propped the shopping against the back bumper,
> >
> > clicked unlock on the key and threw open
> >
> > the boot, thinking of the metaphors
> >
> > of everyday, the cryptic lyricism of
> >
> > an ancient tongue wriggling in the minds
> >
> > of late capitalist man. 'Hot enough
> >
> > for you?' said the woman from
> >
> > next door with Magic Happens on her back window.
> >
> > 'Sure is,' I smiled, surfacing
> >
> > from my reverie and dropping the boot.
> >
> >
> > --
> > Andrew
> > http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
> >
>
--
Andrew
http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
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