Happy Birthday, Claudette

Your cavities and fork-tongued smiles
trace out the frosting, peeling through layers,
searching for the whore (cramped and
as anxious as you) huddled in
the inside hollow, her chapping lips
parted early for the ghost of ‘Surprise!’

The thick, slightly dry flesh
(now of dessert or décolleur?)
is freckled with pockets of held-breath,
sanguinely saved to blow back
against the wishing wind.
But the only thing that pinched-out-wicks
can do for you is to keep smoking
out that Hostess™ hostess;
(pastry hid and just a kid)
who’s such a perfect sweat-stained mirror
of all you Love and Leak.

Just wipe away the perspired blotches
(Salt from tears or ‘20s?)
and get lost in the I’s reflected back.
The Windex-streaks trailing down
spell out that one forgotten phrase:
“How old are you?”

Oh my...

Do I critique this, or clap? The first poem ever written for me, yay!

Some parts I can pick up on--like the fact that I have a chick in a cake waiting to jump out, which is awesome--but other parts I just think, "What?" and don't get it. which.... is usual with your poetry.

But I love it ^_^ I just wish I could understand it more? Although, You did catch me in many ways. You know much about me, eh? I wish I understood it more #_#

whence--


I am inclined to like this, since I like flights of fancy. That said, this didn't effectively pull it off, and I think the discordance in S2 is evident as to why it failed in this regard. Clearly, as a logical, cause-effect type poem, it also fails.

So I wonder that you need not return to the workbench and carve up some new wax candles to plant firmly in the pastry of your verse. In keeping with the blowing metaphor...


Best of suck,
Brad

Hmmm.If Claudette can't understand it all then I have no chance but I can comment on your structure, use of words and imagery...

Your cavities and fork-tongued smiles
trace out the frosting, peeling through layers,
searching for the whore (cramped and
as anxious as you) huddled in
the inside hollow, her chapping lips
parted early for the ghost of ‘Surprise!’

This part makes sense and is very well written but I'm not sure about using 'peeling' in the second line.

The thick, slightly dry flesh
(now of dessert or décolleur?)

French I believe. Give me a moment while I find a translation... ah. Makes sense and sounds so much better in French.

out that Hostess™ hostess;

This line confused me. Why repeat hostess and what does the small TM stand for? I'm guessing there's a deeper meaning here but I can't see it...

(pastry hid and just a kid)
who’s such a perfect sweat-stained mirror
of all you Love and Leak.

A good use of internal rhyme and alliteration here.

The Windex-streaks trailing down
spell out that one forgotten phrase:
“How old are you?”

Perfect ending.

This piece is really good and I can find very little to fault.I just wish that I could understand all of your hidden meanings but then where would be the intrigue and mystery?

for the record, "Hostess™ hostess" is intended first as Hostess the pastry company, and then hostess...like an escort (read as: prostitute :p)

and ™ is a trademark

Ah. That makes more sense. I'd not heard of the Hostess pastry company so I suppose that's why I didn't understand it but I did get the second meaning. Thanks for clearing that up.

After the end I finally got the whole thing and then read it again with a feeling of accomplishment. lol. This DID make sense. Very good sense actually. And it was even sort of fun to find the meaning in the end. My favorite part, after reading the entire poem was the beginning. A lot of imagery and description. I really liked this. And Happy Birthday, Clau, again. Great job on this!

Keep it up!
~Rieda

Coolness. Not sure I want you to write ME a birthday poem, Whence, but I really enjoyed your style--for me, you have all the finesse of Incan but twice the relatability. (;) you know I love you, Brad)