Ken - I think you were writing toward your subject and not there yet. Maybe
your subject is how you were at home -
'At home, pouring it out, I
could dangle reality and let it drop
to the floor, gaze at the TV,'
You had a couple of great first lines hidden away there:
'get the fuck away from me and
leave me in peace.'
You weren't a bar drinker but a home drinker, a solitary soul, crowded in
your mind by those other bastards ... Write about that.
(Shit, can you tell I've been teaching again?! Sorry if it sounds bossy.)
Andrew
On 20 October 2010 06:56, Ken Wolman <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> BAR DRINKER
>
> I really wasn't. Forever antisocial, I shunned company, only one time,
> while awaiting a triple (not double)-A call
> went into the Lyndhurst Tavern
> across from the train station
> and drank a dollar beer
> that wasn't worth the money or the time
> I spent looking at a bunch of solitary guys
> eyeballing football highlights.
>
> At home awaited the frozen vodka bottle
> singing to me in the voices of
> clarinet sonatas or Jon Vickers
> 'Fidelio' outcry: "Gott, welch dunkel hier!"
> Those were voices that I could heed,
> the voices of silence, introspection,
> get the fuck away from me and
> leave me in peace.
>
> Because by day's end I was tired
> of work, the commute, and (big news) myself,
> and in a bar I'd have found no communion,
> only strangers talking to themselves
> by talking to each other
> because there were no connections
> beyond What'll Ya Have?
> At home, pouring it out, I
> could dangle reality and let it drop
> to the floor, gaze at the TV,
> and not pick it up again.
>
> KTW/10-18-10
> --------------
> Ken Wolman http://awfulrowing.wordpress.com/
>
> "All writers are hunters, and parents are the most available prey."
> --Francine du Plessix Gray
>
--
Andrew
http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
'Mother Waits for Father Late' republished available at
http://www.picaropress.com/
http://www.qlrs.com/poem.asp?id=766
http://frankshome.org/AndrewBurke.html
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