once i swallowed a salmon, let it flop around in
my stomach and vomit stories of sailors
who fell in love with nymphs and monsters
that whispered into bunks, into beds and tickled
secrets out of the first mate on every ship, made
them tie a rope in thick sailor knots around their necks
and dive into the ocean.
once i swallowed a rattlesnake and let it slither in
my intestines and it would have poisoned my veins
but i pulled out its fangs and ripped off it's rattle
before i dropped it down my throat and now,
i keep it all in a chain around my neck. sometimes the
snake will nudge up against my heart and wrap itself
around my lungs, licking my collarbone clean with a
forked tongue, but my bones are brittle with young age
and sometimes the porcelain will crack.
once i swallowed a hummingbird, caged it
in my ribs and only fed it half-digested
burgers and let it drink the bittersweet taste
of regret that inhabited my saliva and my blood.
the bird sang at nights and tried to fly
away in the mornings, and it ended up cutting my insides up
with its razor wings but that's what i wanted all along.
once i swallowed my mama's pills,
five of these, two of those, one of that,
straight down my throat and i don't think
they've digested and killed me yet
only because they're keeping my pets
company.
Ironically, I read through this earlier this morning. Good thing too as I need a bit of perspective on this one.
I actually really liked this poem. Probably a lot more the second time than the first because of the fact that I already sort of knew what to expect. It rang a little better, though the topic in itself was a little misty. You're abstract images are becoming something of a regular, so it didn't surprise me that this seemed a little back and forth as well.
The one thing that could be either a hit or a miss for me is how you structure your poems. In this case, you sort of lead into each stanza in a sort of methodical pattern. Last poem, didn't work out as well as I'm sure you would have liked it to. This poem... well, it was almost necessary with that last stanza.
A big thing I notice is that your poetry is rather depressing. I don't know if its because of the fact that the imagery is so stark and colorful and harsh. Maybe its the idea that you like to dwell on pictures that generally seem morbid and obscure. It's all interesting to read, mind you, but extremely hard to understand when it comes to creating a coherent thought process on it all. And I've tried. Trust me, hun. I've given it my all.
In this case, I feel the last stanza reflects enough on the voice that the ideal of the poem came out. But the narrator sounds hopelessly confused. Hurt, maybe, and delusional. Maybe so far as disenchanted by reality. Which is why this is so terribly interesting. And a poem I have spent quite a bit of time trying to analyze.
What I will say is that last stanza was a beaut. To the point, with a mixture of that abstract imagery that you tend to favor, all the why making it plainly clear that this voice is one that is showing extreme amounts of strain. And that the person is at a limit where pills would seem okay. Odd and saddening, but very truthful and, excuse my pun, hard to swallow. I give that last stanza a thumbs up in my books.
But getting to it was a struggle in some cases.
Either or, this is lovely imagery;
The connectivity within this line is gorgeous.
Anyways, tata for now, my dear! And feel free to message me if you ever need another review. I'm always open for a few poems
~Walker