Holy money! I'd forgotten you too, G.K., are wrapped up under a murder of crows' black sky as they roar somewhere obscure, yawing and cawing to obscurely roost. I'm still fiddling with POOR CROWS, my cracked violin, after 2 months, after posting, and this morning decided to yank my covert allusion to the KILL THEM ALL (as if skipping stones!) allusion to the murder in Venezuela and replace it with the mere planetary murder and morass of the foul human marathon of homelessness. You have helpfully wise subscribers, and they helped a knucklehead like me grapple with the agonies of your Laocoonian poem, Loss and Relief, names of those determined serpents sent to strangle him and his two boys on a beach of Troy by Athena, wisdom's most vindictive of bitches.
I love this! The end line rounds it out nicely and gives it depth. I also appreciate the underlying theme that the death of someone can be a release for someone else. After all our lives, and the people who inhabit them are not simple, and often those connections come with complications.
If poetry is good for anything, one of them is to, as Wilbur put it, "liberate us from the burden of inarticulateness." That liberation has to involve giving air to contending emotions--even inconvenient and savage ones. There can be grace in that savagery, and there is grace here. "Stillborn shape" is a damn good image. Well done.
Beautiful
Absolutely stunning…
Holy money! I'd forgotten you too, G.K., are wrapped up under a murder of crows' black sky as they roar somewhere obscure, yawing and cawing to obscurely roost. I'm still fiddling with POOR CROWS, my cracked violin, after 2 months, after posting, and this morning decided to yank my covert allusion to the KILL THEM ALL (as if skipping stones!) allusion to the murder in Venezuela and replace it with the mere planetary murder and morass of the foul human marathon of homelessness. You have helpfully wise subscribers, and they helped a knucklehead like me grapple with the agonies of your Laocoonian poem, Loss and Relief, names of those determined serpents sent to strangle him and his two boys on a beach of Troy by Athena, wisdom's most vindictive of bitches.
I love this! The end line rounds it out nicely and gives it depth. I also appreciate the underlying theme that the death of someone can be a release for someone else. After all our lives, and the people who inhabit them are not simple, and often those connections come with complications.
Oh, my. What a gorgeous, stunning, poignant piece. I was moved by this.
If poetry is good for anything, one of them is to, as Wilbur put it, "liberate us from the burden of inarticulateness." That liberation has to involve giving air to contending emotions--even inconvenient and savage ones. There can be grace in that savagery, and there is grace here. "Stillborn shape" is a damn good image. Well done.