Mexican Fall

" [ The ] car sounds like a skateboard
and [ ] is crunching the leaves
and crunching itself

[ T ]hat's just what I hear [ , ] though [ ; ]
metal like someone rolling a trash can down the sidewalk
carelessly
and without thought

I wonder why that vehicle makes so much noise
but the sun is too bright [ ; ] I can't see behind me
just the peeled-paint-green-bench where I'm resting my feet
and underneath it
all the crunchy fall leaves
that smell like dirt


[ A ]nd I love that smell
that musty nature scent of earth
which reminds me of home
even if back home we never had crunchy leaves made out of fire


[ B ]ut we did have cars
and they squeaked and crunched and rumbled
even more than the one behind me
because everything in Mexico seems to sound like fall when we have no fall [ . ] "

Those were the only nitpicks I found! Otherwise, wonderful piece!

I enjoyed your poem very much. Thank you for writing it. I gather you are originally from Mexico and you miss your former home. The poem gives a feeling of peacefulness and contentment with the state of things. Instead of using the word fall you may want to use a synonym such as autumn. I found it nice that you came back to the car towards the end of the poem, because it ties everything together quite nicely. The description gave quite a clear image of the scenery. I am seeing a brown concrete sidewalk peppered with fallen leaves, a forest green wooden park bench, paved road with a few potholes and maybe a puddle, and lastly bright yet crisp sunshine. Fabulous work. I look forward to reading more of your poetry.

omnomnom cailey.

I'm a new fan of your poetry, and as such I want to be very critical so that each line from you in the future is better polished and presented with signs of growth. That said, what hooked me is your audible imagery. Often it's difficult to parse audio in poetry without sacrificing flow for the sake of i hear or the sound of, etc. That said, I have three main critical bones to pick with this piece:

1. the crunchy fall leaves / that smell of dirt

In this stanza, you have a very admirable flow that typically would coalesce in the final lines; that said, your last line of this stanza stops so abruptly that it's almost tangible to me. If you want the shortcut version, I really think it's just the word dirt that is so curt and basic that it feels as if it doesn't belong among the remainder of your words--not because it's a bad image, but rather because it's a poor word. Test it out for yourself; see how you feel.

2. even if back home we never had crunchy leaves made out of fire

This is your penultimate image necessary for the content of the poem to make sense. With that in mind, the flow of this line is easily remedied by removing crunchy and out. Keep a tab on how many times you throw around crunchy; don't overuse it.

3. because everything in Mexico seems to sound like fall when we have no fall

This is unpalatable. I understand that it's the key line for the entire piece; and with that in mind, I have to be more critical of both its flow and its lack of potency. I'm not one to say that last lines have to leave an impact or a mark on the reader, but for the poem's sake, it has to flow smoothly. There's no cut this word salvage of it, either. Find a way to rephrase this. Fix this line, or risk the piece losing too much value.

Let me know if you have questions.
Lumi