I Only See You In Home Films

Revised:

Mulling in the dank basement,
wasted as my blanket,
culling memories to be tossed,
spread against the sore wall,

stretched o'er pressed cracks,
relaxing the breast-like contours of my firm bottle,
young and aged, a pitiless witness,
whose tenor tills the tin,

matte scene jury rigged by the projector
and these gelatinous eyes that can't see
x-rays, gamma rays, or three days ago –
leaving me to clutch abstractions

that even language dare not touch –
but I can see ten years ago,
I can join in decade-old laughter,
faded as we may be,

accidental loops of plastic sheets
inlaid with faces and places
and traces of love that reel,
peel off and careen toward death.

I drink alone.



Original:

Spoiler

I drink alone.

Mulling in the dank basement,
wasted as my thin blanket,
culling memories to be tossed,
spread against the sore wall

that lets my dry laments cement the cracks,
relax the breast-like contours of the firm bottle,
young and aged, a pitiless witness,
whose tenor tills the tin,

matte scene jury rigged by the projector
and these gelatinous orbs that can't see
x-rays, gamma rays, or three days ago –
leaving me to clutch abstractions

that even language dare not touch –
but I can see ten years ago.
I become aware of my participation
in elsewhere recorded laughter,

accidental loops of plastic sheets
inlaid with faces and places
and traces of love that reel,
peel off and slip toward death.

I drink alone.

I drink alone.

Though intriguing as a first line, it only accomplishes being intriguing. It doesn't have much point to it otherwise because you restate it last line (which is a much better fit for it, I think). And what's more is, the repetition gives it this incomprehensible blandness. 'I drink alone... hmm.... I drink alone'.

Mulling in the dank basement,
wasted as my thin blanket,

"dank" and "thin" are rather bland descriptors in a pair of good lines. They feel unnecessary. Pitch em'.

that lets my dry laments cement the cracks,

Rough transition--feels all too contrived, like you tried to make this work.

x-rays, gamma rays, or three days ago –

Or pretty much everything, yeah? You get listy here. Simplify.

I become aware of my participation
in elsewhere recorded laughter,

Awkward. Very awkward. What's more is, you go nowhere with this line of thought.

May elaborate, but for now, complete.

culling memories to be tossed,

This line reads oddly. "Culling" implies completely removing, and you can't toss something that has already been removed from your possession.

that lets my dry laments cement the cracks,

This line struck me as being incredibly emo. Dry laments? That cement cracks? Now where have I heard that before...? The image of laments filling cracks and/or crevasses and/or other spaces is surprisingly common, and therefore not very original.

and these gelatinous orbs that can't see

Of course boobs can't see; they're boobs.

In all seriousness though, employing an adjective-noun descriptive phrase in an attempt to substitute "eyes" rarely ever works out well. While it's not as bad as calling them "globular organs", it's still pretty difficult to take the descriptor seriously. Especially since "orbs" has a long history of being used to refer to a certain paired and rounded aspect of female anatomy, and you also referred directly to breasts earlier in the poem.

Ergo, boobs.

I become aware of my participation

And this line is poetic... how?

One thing that really annoyed me about this poem was the stanza breaks. All I have to say is, "Why?" Aside from the first and last lines, they serve no apparent purpose than to break up the poem, and they do. In fact, they break the poem up too much and result in a rather strong disconnect between stanzas, which makes the poem as a whole feel disjointed and hastily cobbled together. Stanzas are a lot like paragraphs; each stanza focuses on one main idea or set of ideas. When a new idea or other element is introduced, it's a good idea to start a new stanza. Otherwise, unless you're writing in a set form (which you don't appear to be here), there's no reason to split ideas between stanzas mid-idea.

You might want to look into more careful placement of stanza breaks.

this piece shows impressive facility with language... almost reminds me of something I'd write . There are some great lines in here, tenor tills the tin...

matte scene jury rigged by the projector
and these gelatinous orbs that can't see
x-rays, gamma rays, or three days ago –
leaving me to clutch abstractions

i liked this. That said I didn't like the word 'orb'. also I don't like the last line but other then that its rad. Elsewhere recorded laughter is really good too. The poem suffers because of weak word choices and could benefit from condensation. It could also use a little more cohesion and requires a stronger ending. This has a lot of potential, keep working on it and I'd say you've got something publishable.

best,