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Three Lost Souls of a Tourist Town

by PogueMahone

Published May 15, 2011

I sit at a bar
on the South-side of town
and the bartender
in a black military cap
sets a cold glass of Yuengling
on the counter in front of me.

I drink away the passing hours,
and burn countless cigarettes
while silently watching
the crowd of fresh faces
rolling in and out of the bar.

In the wee morning hours,
as the bar empties out,
the bartender asks
what brought me
to the beach.

He says people are
ephemeral like the sea,
like the high and low tide:
those running
from something
and those running
to something
and asks
which one am I?

I chug my beer,
slam the empty glass
on the counter
and order a shot of bourbon.

I am like a tidal wave
crashing against the sand,
I tell him.
For I am here
to revel in the chaos.

Comments & reviews · 4
User avatar
MeanMrMustard
Review
MeanMrMustard wrote a review Review · May 31, 2011

I sit at a bar
on the South-side of town
and the bartender
in a black military cap
sets a cold glass of Yuengling
on the counter in front of me.
I drink away the passing hours,
and burn countless cigarettes
while silently watching
the crowd of fresh faces
rolling in and out of the bar.
In the wee morning hours,
as the bar empties out,
the bartender asks
what brought me
to the beach.
He says people are
ephemeral like the sea,
like the high and low tide:
those running
from something
and those running
to something
and asks
which one am I?
I chug my beer,
slam the empty glass
on the counter
and order a shot of bourbon.
I am like a tidal wave
crashing against the sand,
I tell him.
For I am here
to revel in the chaos.


Pogue, this reads to me instantly like prose. Not strictly “prose”, but the narration follows little direction in poetic imagery, tense, line break, etc. Rather, this is centrally derived from a single speaker's narration as if they were a character.

The closest you get to poetic elements in the poem can be seen in “he says people are ephemeral like the sea, like the high and low tide...” and while the rest of the poem technically follows this lead slightly, it further predicates itself on narration and narration than image to image. You tell us everything. Your similes are the only elements of this monologue in description that stray from telling.

Do not attempt to re-craft this poem from the embers, instead, learn from seeing what “telling” is exactly: stating the obvious sensory and placement details, that there is a speaker, etc. SHOW US SOMETHING, like the people being like the tide. That is poetic.

That said, I like your control here though I wonder if this rises from your writing reading like prose. Otherwise readjust your goal and focus in writing this, ask yourself what makes a poem a poem and how is this done by others.

User avatar
Gracie
Review
Gracie wrote a review Review · May 16, 2011

This poem i really interesting. There is soem fantastic imagery here. All the descriptions about the bar and the atmospher perfectly encpsulate and distill the mood of this atmoshere.

The flow and structure over all is pretty good, however can get a bit clunky in parts, becauce the poem is crammed with a lot of detail.

In conclusion, very good.

User avatar
shiney1
Review
shiney1 wrote a review Review · May 15, 2011

I find this poem very interesting. I like the way it is written, actually, and the subject is intriguing to me as well. I like the imagery, but maybe you could be a little more detailed and make the images more vivid. But as a whole, this poem is wonderful.


I sit at a bar
on the South-side of town,
and the bartender
in a black military cap
sets a cold glass of Yuengling
on the counter in front of me. This got me interested

I drink away the passing hours,
burning countless cigarettes
while silently watching
the crowd of fresh faces
rolling in and out of the bar. Good imagery

In the wee morning hours,
as the bar empties out,
the bartender asks
what brought me
to the beach.

He says people are
ephemeral like the sea,
like the high and low tide:
those running
from something
and those running
to something,
and asks
which one I am. sounds a bit better this way

I chug my beer,
slam the empty glass
on the counter,
and order a shot of bourbon.

'I am like a tidal wave
crashing against the sand,'
since you are talking
I tell him.
'For I am here
to revel in the chaos.'



Just a few nitpicks. Great work!



“It doesn’t matter what you are, it only matters what you do. It’s your choice.”
— Sam Winchester