Published August 3, 2009
Breathing, he composes each small step with fragile
Artistry. His face is a porcelain
Picture of concentration, thrown stiff by the wind, indifferent
To such catatonic pursuits. His eyes flicker
Between glass streets – the skyscrapers seesaw madly in his mind,
But not outwardly. He is risking
All absurdity to claim them, two beacons soaring
Like black notes
In a sea of white keys, as his own. He doesn’t like doing it
Simply to flash a smile
In the next day’s paper. Although that’s what happens
When you write poetry
Four hundred feet in the air, as the wind wraps you,
There in honey-eyed triumph,
Filling a void in the world’s imagination:
A vertical symphony.
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Oh, my, this is marvelous! When reading poetry, I always try to think to myself, "Now, would any other person in the world think to formulate these exact words in such a way, or better?" When, indeed, the answer is no, the question of whether the poem is worth reading is automatically answered in the affirmative. Who would ever think to write the words, "vertical symphony?"
My only suggestion, in this poem, is that you lowercase the letters that do not begin a new sentence, but do begin a new line. Naturally, when I see a word that is not a proper noun, capitalized, I think unconciously, "Oh, a new sentence." I found myself doing that with this poem, and I thought, "This line makes no sense at all!" until I fully understood it. If you, perhaps, left a space between each sentence and took the capitalization off of those few letters, the poem would be much easier to read . . .
. . . not that I'm saying it was difficult to read! It was a joy, to be sure. I need to go read more of your work right now!