On Fridays my father
volunteers at a kill shelter,
sitting with the dogs
on their last day. He leaves
trying hard not to think
about the needle, but
in the cages he becomes
a dealer. He knows
it's not his job
to save anyone.
At home, my father
sits on the back porch,
thoughts racing
like greyhounds.
He tells me he doesn't know
if he can keep going.
I tell him to stay,
but he doesn't.
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@slope game I like it. It invites me to reflect on my own connections and the sacrifices made in the name of compassion.
Hey there!
I really enjoyed the metaphors and imagery you used here - specifically the third and fourth lines in the second stanza - thoughts racing like greyhounds. One of the opportunities for expansion in this poem is the structure of your stanzas. The second one flows much better than the first, the line breaks you throw into the first stanza don’t feel natural in some spots. You hit a good rhythm with line four and five in stanza two - but then it falls off with the following two lines and becomes stilted again. I would play around with the line flow on this one when you go to edit it - you might find it benefits from a little tweaking in a few spots!
One of the strengths in this poem is the evocative image you’re striking of your father being a dealer of drugs/his job being to not save but rather kill. It’s an incredibly vivid image and the implications it has for real-life dealers and the position they are in, supplying addicts with drugs and the little choice addicts can have in their mental illness and recovery. Not having access to resources and support is a huge factor in this cycle - and I feel like that’s just another layer to what this poem’s extended story is trying to say. Having such a clear message is effective and thought provoking.
I do think you could work on the the closing of this poem. It falls a little flat for me after line four in stanza two. It almost feels like you could have kept going for a little bit or pulled back and made the poem shorter and omitted that part all together. See what you develop while you’re workshopping, but I could see a potential for a really strong ending to follow up to these images you’ve been able to so clearly communicate.
Nice work! Happy editing!
- Sizzle
Seoyoung!! Meowww your writing is always so good!!
Hai :3
The imagery in this poem is so vivid and loaded with quiet, heavy emotion. I love how you start with something so specific ~~ Fridays, the kill shelter, your father sitting with the dogs. It grounds the reader right away, giving us such a clear image to hold on to while also setting up this weight of unspoken sadness. The line "He leaves trying hard not to think about the needle" absolutely gutted me. It’s such a small moment, but the way it echoes this internal conflict your father is carrying!!
The shift to comparing your father's thoughts to greyhounds racing is perfect!! It’s such a powerful metaphor and it works on so many levels ~~ Greyhounds are fast, relentless, running in circles. That’s exactly what his thoughts are doing and it ties back beautifully to the shelter and the dogs. The circularity of it all, like he’s stuck in this loop of helplessness, is so clear and heartbreaking!!
I know this is your first real attempt at poetry, too, which is shocking!! Reading this, I would assume you've written something like this before. I know you're a very brilliant prose writer, but it's nice to see you explore poetry!! ^_^
The line "he becomes a dealer" is a strong metaphor, but it feels a little abrupt compared to the rest of the poem’s tone. Maybe you could explore a more subtle way to convey that idea? The word "dealer" hits hard, but it also might jar readers out of the flow. I understand it's paired with the needle and the way that the animals are put down, but there is nothing building up to it!! It's just there.
^^^ Leaning into this; I feel like more sensory details could really deepen the connection. For example, what does the shelter smell like? What does the porch feel like ~~ are there mosquitoes, is it cold, humid? Little moments like that would make this poem feel more life-like. I've been your biggest fan for the longest time, aware of your ability to write good settings, but this feels surface-level. Like, I understand the inevitability of the narrative, but I don't feel any of it.
There’s so much left unsaid and that silence is almost louder than any words could be!! You don’t need to explain what happens after that. It's a great ending!! There is a this gut-wrenching sense of loss and helplessness, which is all-consuming.
Mwah mwah!! You should write more poetry, Seo!! <3
- Payton