a man's worst friend

alone with a black dog in tornado country
snapping at his broken ankles. days dark
as springstorms in sunny backtowns,
they walk as straight as railroad tracks
through the corpses of cottonfields, disrespectfully,
perfectly, quiet, like the mice they ate
for breakfast.

puddlefulls of heatcracks line the way to the horizon,
they sleep in woodshacks crawling with centipedes
and crackingly cold in the deep nights.
he celebrates his birthday coughing up tumbleweed
as the black dog chases imaginary dreams
of rats in rotting ghost towns.

he eats it four days later
shoots it with the last bullet in his rusted revolver
and skins it in the shade of the ash groves.
tough and brittle like his tired bones
the meat fills his stomach with a sadness
so raw he staggers like a disorderly drunk.

dollars breed seeds into the hardworn ground
and in the nowheres of states they buck
the trend with a thousand therapies
thick and thunderous
into the deep chasms of almost everywhere.
his tongue is whiskywet with wonder
lapping at his chin like a panting pup.

This poem had such a lovely flow and feel to it, and the line breaks were very well placed. I liked the lack of capitalization and punctuation; it really added to the poem. Your imagery was very simple, but at the same time, it helped create a tangible atmosphere of a dry, dusty desolation in the Old West, a place that's dying a long, lingering death. At least, that was my impression.

My favorite line: "he celebrates his birthday coughing up tumbleweed".

My only quibble is with the last stanza; the first five lines felt a bit abstract to me compared with the rest of the poem.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. So many poems on this site have a problem with sticking with their centrel theme till the very end, but you did. You pretty much made my day.

through the corpses of cottonfields, disrespectfully,
perfectly, quiet, like the mice they ate

I apologize, but I'm not completely sure what you are saying here. I think it might flow better if you said: "through the corpses of cotton fields, disrespectfully and perfectly quiet."
But that's just me. I'm probably not reading it right or something.
Also, I believe cottonfields is actually two words.

Good poem, nice theme.

Classy

I really liked this,
The way it is written is very nicely done
Good job

My favorite line is,
"he celebrates his birthday coughing up tumbleweed" it seems to draw me in and i can picture it perfectly in my mind. I also agree with Kyllorac, the line breaks aere indeed very well placed

Hey Firestarter. I really liked this poem. It was well written, spooky, and kind of disturbing. It's certainly a breath of fresh air after the bad emo poetry I've been reviewing lately.

However, one thing that bothered me about this poem is that there didn't really see to be much purpose behind it. What I mean by that, is, the man just seems to randomly kill, skin and eat his dog without any question about it. It's a horrible thing to do, but this seems like something that should convey a message, while it doesn't.

Try to expand upon this poem so the reader learns something after he is finished. However, it's a very good poem, and I think a like is in order for you

-Elinor

However, one thing that bothered me about this poem is that there didn't really see to be much purpose behind it. What I mean by that, is, the man just seems to randomly kill, skin and eat his dog without any question about it. It's a horrible thing to do, but this seems like something that should convey a message, while it doesn't.

What I was trying to convey in the poem was a double meaning of depression -- externally, of the Great Depression, and internally, of a depressive disorder. Winston Churchill used to call his depression the "black dog" which is where the focus of the poem comes from. I probably didn't lay enough clues, but the poem was suggesting that while America recovered from the Great Depression, the man in the poem recovered from his depression by 'destroying' his 'black dog'.

There's other things I could explain, but that would defeat the purpose of interpretation.

Thanks everybody for the comments.

Hmm, well this may be late. But I promised a review.

Well, I didn't like this as much as hoped I would. I love the idea, but you lost a lot of potential in the presentation of this idea. The idea isn't that far to reach if you have a general knowledge of some things. All I had to know about is Winston Churchill's symbolic 'black dog' and the poem became flat. Your poem simply has two faces, and though it suits some people because they don't know about this symbolic saying, what about the others?

I was left a little unsatisfied, due to the fact that I look at this, reach a little bit and realize in disappointment that this nicely decorated outer shell is not very deep inside. But that's all meaning.

Your use of words was greatly appreciated. Always does me well to see a good vocabulary that really creates a nicely painted picture.

he celebrates his birthday coughing up tumbleweed
as the black dog chases imaginary dreams
of rats in rotting ghost towns.

Yum.

At the end, your connection back to the dog should be a little smoother. Though you led into it slightly, I felt there was a bit of a gap between the two. You want to really finish and fine tune it to finish off with a flourish.

Anyways,

I look forward to seeing more work from you.

Kamas

Goodness, Jack. You should write more poetry.

The poem started off on good legs, and kept on steadily through most of it. There were a few lines where this grew shaky, but for the most part, you kept a solid reliance on concrete imagery to display abstract ideas. A very brilliant display, indeed.

snapping at his broken ankles. days dark
as springstorms in sunny backtowns,
they walk as straight as railroad tracks
through the corpses of cottonfields, disrespectfully,

(This is the first time in a long time that I appreciate the frequent use of adverbs in poetry)

"they walk" sounds like you're referring to the last noun, day, and I'm not sure if that's the intention? I think if you're referring to the dog and the man, you should de-clutter this part just a little so that the image is clearer.

he eats it four days later
shoots it with the last bullet in his rusted revolver

I'm not sure why, but this first line really bugs me. Probably because it's the opening to the stanza, and all of your other openings come off stronger, and comparatively this one's a little weak, because it's just there, flat, and pretty uninteresting. I'd use a synonym to make this just a little stronger.

the trend with a thousand therapies
thick and thunderous
into the deep chasms of almost everywhere.

"Thick and thunderous" kind of seems like it's thrown in there for the ride, and it's not necessarily doing anything of benefit here, haha. I'd put a quick adjective of the therapy in the line with it, and eliminate this second line, dear.


Over all, wonderfully done. I can honestly say that this is one of the best poems revolving around 'the black dog' that I've ever read; none of the obvious pulling-for-sympathy lines here, although you did evoke strong feeling in the third stanza.

My favorite part would have to be the closing; it's brilliant, closes the poem effortlessly, and it's simply beautiful in a melancholic way.

Wonderful word play here, Jack. Keep writing. Please.


June

Hey Jack,

I love this, but what else is new? This also makes me insanely jealous,because you're the same age as me and this is so much better than anything I could ever right, but oh well. I'll try to put that aside and be objective while I review!

I love your imagery, and how you don't have any superfluous words. It starts off hauntingly and really drew me in. I love the alliteration of "corpses of cottonfields". I really loved;
"he celebrates his birthday coughing up tumbleweed
as the black dog chases imaginary dreams
of rats in rotting ghost towns"

and "breed seeds", and the last two lines are very powerful and beautifully written.

The only thing I'd look at is;
"and in the nowheres of states they buck
the trend with a thousand therapies
thick and thunderous
into the deep chasms of almost everywhere".
Like Kyllorac, I think it's a little vague and that it lacks the powerful imagery which makes the rest of the poem so great. I'd go back to looking at specific imagery and details instead.

Apart from that, I think it's great. Hope this helps.

Jas