I suggested to Susan Holahan that we present to petc members her
back-channel further critique of my poem, 'Almost Closing Time', with my
responses, and she agreed, so here it is followed by a rewrite and the
original poem, with my apologies for any weird printing layout!

[Susan]  Judy—

Still enjoying "Almost Closing Time." Feeling a touch protective of the "I"
in it. Seriously admiring your bravery in offering it. And wondering about a
few matters:

[Judy]  Prolly bcuz my first love's playwrighting, I don't think about poems
as reflecting 'me', and if they do, for some reason I'm fine with
that---plus everybody plays the fool [in love] sometimes, as the song goes;
no exceptions to the rule.  Wish I could remember singer Aaron's last name.
 Starts with B, I think [probably Wilson].

[S]  The poem as a whole moves me.

[J]  WHY does it move you?

[S]  [See next sentence and refer back to preceding graf, forward to 5th and
6th. Not all motion is joyful.] It contains truly lovely lines and offers
memorable images. Need we ask more?

[J]  Yes, we do.

[S]  If you're interested in working through it again, I'd ask you to
(re)consider line lengths and breaks. Sometimes they seem to chop off
grammatical phrases: I can't hear why *the poem *needs them where they fall.


[J]  This is the only suggestion you make that I can't seem to manage to
meet.  I've tried by copying others rigidly at first, then less so, but to
me [and another talented 'judge' of poetry] my efforts just don't work.
 I'll keep it in mind, though, seriously, as it's been constraining at times
to do short lines.  A big important issue, without doubt; therefore, it
deserves discussion, analysis, and experimentation.

[S]  No question, this is a major project. If you're not ready to go through
metrics, syllabics, and then The Rest in its many forms, why not begin by
using your theatre training? How do you create the voice of any character as
writer or actor? Work *through* these two [separate] tasks and you'll be
much closer to what you need here.

I'm not sure I need to ask you to reconcile the terrarium and the goldfish
bowl, but when "crocodile teeth"(sz. 5) seem to emerge from what might be
the ruins of the alligator bag (line 1), I'm at a loss.

[J]  Beginning with this, and throughout your analysis, I nodded a knowing
assent.  In this case bcuz I'd had a glimmer---not a lightning bolt---but a
hint as I proofread repeatedly, that to switch 'alligator' to 'crocodile'
for the sake of unrepetition and for alliteration in the next line:
 'cracking', might be a mistake.  And it was.  <g>

[S]  Overall, the confidence, even power, with which "we" speak in the
penult. sz. jars against the hesitant, anxious tone (as I hear it) of the
preceding stanzas. [Stanza's the wrong word. Verse paragraph?] The
opposition of the "I" and the "you" from the start seems (to me) to make the
joined force of the "we" impossible. At least unlikely. Is that a surprise
you wanted? I'd love to know how this "I" and "you" suddenly find themselves
holding hands (on the broom).
[J]  Yes, you've put your finger on the poem's main impenetrability:  I've
not clearly shown my main character's considerable shyness as well as her
fierce stubborn independence.  It CAN be done, but I've not made the effort
yet to do it.  Do you recall the wonderful old movie The Shop On The Corner?
 The woman and man retailers locked horns continuously with one a
nother....and fell in love.  He left her attentive, romantic, anonymous
notes; she thought Some Wonderful guy loved her, and the embarrassment of
her hearing the truth from him was a gorgeous bit of writing and acting. My
poem's situation simply has a woman who's in Deep Like with a co-worker, a
rather fine-looking man, and she's utterly flummoxed by her infatuation.
 However, she also's been around the block enuff to know that giving up her
Self would make her want to kill him [figuratively, that is] after while.

[S]  By all means, never surrender [her] right to Major Ambivalence if not
violence.

Of course the final lines make that happy condition contingent. They ask
much more of the "you" than the tense, attenuated "I" dares to claim
earlier. So what's happened between the "cracking leather" and the "no" to
change everything? Is the poem tough enough as it stands to override the
gap?

[J]  Yes, Susan, that's a definite problem in the poem.  Again, I'd
'glimmered' about it, but thought p'raps it'd be obvious [rereading for
proofreading so soon after finishing a poem doesn't do the job of
distancing, rather it often just 'familiarises' what's there, ironically].
 I'd wished to make the store peopled by customers, to whom the man and
woman would hand out the red envelopes.  Not clear, obviously!

[S]  [It's clear enough that there are suddenly Others: this makes
the--temporary? transient?--united joy of the two original contestants
something of a performative gesture. Then what? And why?]

[J]  The 'no one will leave this store' part comes from the usual
terrorising demand that hijacker and hostage-takers make and we're used to
reading about.  I wanted to entirely upset that expectation, reseed it with
love-anticipating.

[S]  [Lookit how many metaphors you're offering us scampering readers!]

What do you think? (If you have time, energy, inclination. . . .)

[J]   1)  I think you're on target, and that you've been a wonderful help!
 Far as I know, no one on POETRYETC has ever done such a thoro analysis of a
nother petc member's poem.  I also think, 2) that I'd love to have you/us
post this frontchannel to petc.


REWRITE:

Almost Closing Time
a crocodile handbag writes my biography
clasp of brass, fine engineered mechanism
under a faun-smooth flap

in the leather goods department
even our returns policy is generous
we are courteous, ever efficient
until this unseasonably warm sale

each receipt names and dates me
reveals my station
next to yours

I cannot hide from shoppers
but my heart hides from you
in the terrarium
ivy ruffles, woodchips
pressed against the glass

you come to me with the perigee moon
on your shoes
you call me your mannequin
a silk and rayon blend

Indeed, I am a material that breathes, but tautly;
I promise that if you try to tame me
you'll see alligator jaws
feel the scrape of my sharp-nobbed leather

you suggest that we evaluate
the new-products reports,
a line I've heard before
from the Accessories Supervisor

you say we must now do the work of four employees
a knot of emotion trips your fingers
and I know I will touch you now
today, before closing

you are smiling
and I am smiling at your dimples
you have a mouth that comforts mine

we reach for the red envelopes of gift coupons
hand them out to each sturdy patron
in our night's final aisle-walk;
it's not too late to guarantee joy

---------------------

>
>
> ORIGINAL POEM:

Almost Closing Time
an alligator handbag writes my biography
for sale
a string of emotion knots my fingers

I hide in the terrarium
ivy ruffles and woodchips
pressed against the glass

you come with the perigee moon
on your shoes
call me your mannequin
of humidified vapour
a silk and rayon blend

you reach down to me, the goldfish
grown to fit your bowl

if you tame me
you will see crocodile teeth
and cracking leather

no, we will wait for stars' closing
sweep the janitor into our file cabinet
hand out gift certificates
in red envelopes with preprinted fames

everyone will leave this place in love
only if you have a mouth that comforts mine

-------------------