caw, caw

Hai :3

What a neat poem!! I love how the poem keeps circling back to “corpses” until the word becomes less like a single image and more like its entire atmosphere. It’s everywhere: in the air, in the churches, in the mosques, in the body, in the imagination, so forth. That repetition is brutal, but it’s clearly doing emotional work. It makes the poem feel suffocating, like there is no clean place left to stand, and life has become ravaged by the need to understand these "corpses."

corpses, scorching corpses,

purple lighting, lighting churches

This opening is so immediate and harsh. There’s no easing us in at all, which works because the poem feels like a vision or a nightmare already underway. “Scorching corpses” is visceral, but then “purple lighting” complicates it because purple can feel royal, mystical, bruised, or stormlike ~~ I love that ambiguity!! It makes the scene feel both beautiful and horrible, which is such a disturbing combination. “Lighting churches” is especially interesting to me because “lighting” can mean illuminating or setting on fire. That double meaning is SO strong here. Are the churches being lit by purple light, or are they burning? Or both?

people watching, people talking

shaving hair, smells like corpses

This part is chilling because the people feel almost casual. They’re watching and talking while horror is happening, which gives the poem this eerie bystander energy. I think that’s one of the most disturbing things here: not just death, but the ordinary social behavior around death. People continue to talk. People continue to observe. That feels very real in a devastating way. “Shaving hair” is such a specific image, too. It made me think of humiliation, mourning, purification, punishment, or ritual preparation. I’m not sure which one you intended, but the image is strong because it brings the horror down to the body.

nails, scales, skins go pale

tails, chains, fantasy tales

!!!! This soundplay is so good!!

The rhyme here makes the stanza feel almost nursery-rhyme-like, which is deeply creepy given the content. “Nails, scales, skins” gives the poem a bodily, creaturely texture. It’s human but also animal, mythic, monstrous. Then “tails, chains, fantasy tales” suddenly pushes the poem into folklore or imagination, and I really like that because it raises a terrifying question: what happens when human imagination invents violence and then treats it like a story?

^^^ I wonder if “fantasy tales” could be made sharper. It’s a really interesting idea, but compared to the physical force of “nails,” “skins,” and “chains,” it feels a bit more general. Is the fantasy religious? political? mythological? childish? Giving the reader one more concrete detail could make this idea hit even harder.

mosques are blue, burning corpses

stench baked into the air, of corpses

The blue mosques image is beautiful and horrifying. Blue usually feels calm, sacred, cooling, but here it’s placed beside burning bodies. That contrast is so effective!! It makes the sacred architecture feel unable to protect anyone from violence. I also like how churches and mosques both appear in the poem, because the piece starts to feel less like it is about one place and more about a broader failure of sacred spaces, or maybe the way humans bring violence even into places meant for holiness.

garlic on the door, seven candles on the floor

distant words we kneel to, never seen before

Garlic... :eyes:

This is my favorite section, I think!! Garlic on the door and seven candles on the floor feel protective, superstitious, ritualistic. There’s something almost folkloric here, like people are trying to ward off evil after evil has already entered. The number seven also brings in a sacred or magical feeling, which fits so well with the poem’s recurring religious imagery.

“Distant words we kneel to, never seen before” is such an intriguing line, too. It feels like devotion without understanding, or inherited ritual, or people bowing to language that has become detached from meaning ~~ Really relevant in the times we live in!! That’s powerful!! It makes the poem feel like it’s not only about physical death, but also about how belief, imagination, and obedience can become dangerous when nobody questions what they’re kneeling to.

^^^ One thought about your conclusion: I do wonder if the ending could benefit from one more emotional pivot. Right now, it ends with impact and sound, which works, but because the line about imagination is so philosophically loaded, I found myself wanting either a sharper final image or a slightly more surprising last word. “Corpses” is intentionally repeated, but since it appears so often, maybe the final line could twist the word into something new: ash, smoke, prayer, wax, teeth, etc. Not because “corpses” is weak, but because you’ve already made it so dominant that the ending might become even more haunting if it escapes the word at the last second!! What can change when all else stays the same?

Overall, this is a brutal, ritualistic, and VERY uncanny poem!! I really love the way you mix sacred spaces with bodily decay, ordinary objects with an apocalypse, beauty with viscera!! Great work with this, majuli!! <33

- Payton