Young Writers Society

There is a stone slab
resting on the couch of apartments.
It stays there during the day,
alongside itself and misery;
company painting sepia afternoons
of retreats from humanity (making love
on the cushions with Seurat).

At night the rock leaves,
the print of a buttocks
weighs the cushion down,
ripped at the seams and sticky from sweat,
like a clean slate soaked in dry blood and molasses
(which never washes off in the sink).

"This is a sorry sight" I mutter, waking up
on a couch, unsure of why my neck is so raw,
of why it is so hard to breathe;
I can remember.

You know, I always thought Judas was fabulous because he was such a dynamic character. I could empathize with him and also dislike him when he sold his buddy Jesus, but also, thereafter, still care about him. Even still kind of like him like that stereotypical loveable fuck-up [I think] he is.

Placeholder. Will review soon.

There is a stone slab
resting on the couch of apartments.

The stone slab and the couch are referred to time and time again throughout your poem, so I think we could make something of a goal to decide and pinpoint what it is they represent. Alright. Before we begin venturing toward this horizon, let's analyze the more apparent features of each symbol outside of their context; this could very well aid us in our enterprise.

Stone slab:
-Not easily destroyed or overcome; strong, perhaps unyielding.
-Heavy; not easily moved.

Couch:
-Commonly taken advantage of out of laziness.
-Pliable (to an extent) (I doubt you had this in mind, however, because if pliability was what you were aiming for, you would have used something a bit more obvious. We'll see, I suppose.).
-Used for resting.
-Provides possibly unnecessary comfort.

Now that that's taken care of, let's move on.

It stays there during the day,
alongside itself and misery;
company painting sepia afternoons
of retreats from humanity

You show quite clearly here that this stone slab is a most miserable stone slab, and not only miserable, but apparently immoral. One could say that we have here a tenuous illustration of the unrewarding nature of inhumanity.

(making love
on the cushions with Seurat).

Interesting! I'm assuming that Seurat is a reference to pointillism. Up close, viewed in detail, pointillism might look bizarre and unattractive. Viewed from afar, an observer's judgement would be quite contrary. This is the concept your Seurat will be representing, will it not?

It seems, as it is making love with Seurat, that the stone slab is embracing said concept. Is this embrace artificial, used as means of reassurance, perhaps, or escape, as sex by nature is? Or is it natural?

At night the rock leaves,
the print of a buttocks
weighs the cushion down,

Something, of course, changes in Judas when night arrives. To synthesize your poem with Judas' story, I have a very strong feeling that the stone slab represents his loyalty to Jesus; at night, the loyalty disappears and he betrays Jesus. But what could the other two lines mean?

ripped at the seams and sticky from sweat,
like a clean slate soaked in dry blood and molasses
(which never washes off in the sink).

The second and third lines here are even more evidence to support my hypothesis above, and I don't think I have to explain to you why.

I have a feeling that what the couch is in the context of Judas' betrayal of Jesus is right in front of my nose, but I can't see it. There is another reference to the couch in the next stanza; it could very well be the missing puzzle piece that I need.

"This is a sorry sight" I mutter, waking up
on a couch, unsure of why my neck is so raw,
of why it is so hard to breathe;
I can remember.

This will be Judas' regret, his remorse. I'm guessing the raw neck and constricted breathing is just an allusion to the fact that he was hanged. Simple enough.

While the stone slab leaves in light of the betrayal, the couch stays. What could this mean...?

Aha! The couch represents Judas' morality. It fits perfectly, considering that it was so worn during Judas' succumbing to the bribe of thirty silver coins (this would be the second stanza).

Though I have the major icons in your poem deciphered, there are some elements that remain unsolved; namely, your reference to Seurat. You'll have to educate me about that one.

Keep on writing your brilliant poems.

-Kafka