a memorial to sunless evenings

Wow.

I'm (slowly) beginning to get used to the way you write poetry, but there are a few things that hit me every time. There's always this desperate and visceral sense, like there's not enough time in the world to say what you have to say. Unfortunately, this can sometimes come off as a little rushed, at which point it loses some of its impact.

I think some deliberation is necessary. I know what that creative haste feels like--I'm always pressuring myself to put the next piece out there, but taking a little time and really deciding what you're trying to convey can only help you. For example, when you say "people who know exactly where to go can never have the chance to be found" I felt a little lost. This was one of the most noticeable moments, and this may be just an opinion to disregard, but I think it's a little too wordy and loses itself. I was lost on the meaning--I think it would make more sense to try to convey the idea that a set destination requires losing personal discovery, not necessarily being found by some other entity. Does that make sense? It's a tough concept to put across, and I'm not sure exactly what I would do to clear that up. On the other hand, maybe I've misinterpreted what it was supposed to mean in the first place.

The first stanza kind of got to me in a weird way. I felt like the imagery was (as I've come to expect from you) quite vivid and concrete-- the only think I would suggest is playing with the formatting a bit to make the meaning a little more clear. I felt like I was missing something--I wasn't sure exactly what I took away from it.

"I'm waiting for someone to tell me when I can laugh" is such a poignant line. I wanted to cry--there's something that really resonates there. Don't touch that bit--I adore it.

The rest of that stanza lost me a little. It's part of the reason that Iwould suggest sticking your poetry in the incubator for a while more and really mulling it over. The imagery of the lungs as flapping sails walks really close to the line of absurdity, which we are all, as poets, trying always not to cross. It gets wordy--something that works well in your prose but maybe not as well in your poetry. That said, you finish the stanza strong. I love the image of piano teeth--it's really a creative way to phrase it. In discussing the anatomy of instruments, it's so much more common for a line to be drawn to piano strings and heartstrings and it was lovely to have somebody break that cliche.

I wanted more of the time parallels, at the end. I wanted the mention of twilight to be earlier and I wanted to spend a night with the speaker. There's something so intimate about night, and I feel like it's something that is often skirted around in poetry. There's a story called The Wall, by Sartre, and it's a night with a man about to be executed. It's sort of what I wanted here, though in a less direct sense. I think there would be more fluidity to the piece if it were tied together by something like time.

Overall, I feel like this is a story I want to read again and again in different ways. There's something kind of hit or miss about your poetry, and there were parts of this with such a heavy impact. (God, I hope this doesn't sound cruel.)

Time is conducive to talent.

<3<3<3<3
--Rylee

hey <3 it's 1 am where I am buy I really really want to review this, can you message me or like this or something to remind me? thanks <3

Hey, Savvy. Yesterday you only asked me about the visceral aspect of the poem, so I've decided to write a review. I haven't been doing too many reviews lately, but I'll give it my best shot.

Firstly, I must say that for me personally, this poem required a lot of thinking and intense concentration. It has many references and metaphors that require one's undivided attention, but I still find it to be open to interpretation.

The structure does seem random initially, but after careful consideration, I've come to the conclusion that it works well the way it is. The stanzas aren't all even, but there is a certain ornamentation in the way they are organized. The first one is long, taking advantage of the reader's attention do deliver as much as possible in order to further grasp them, leading up to three smaller stanzas which pick up the pace. Then, there is a certain consistency right at the middle and then the three uneven stanzas again at the end. I don't know if you deliberately structured it like this, but after thinking about it, I think it works well given the message of the poem.

About the punctuation, and regarding the previous review, I would say that you can use it or not use it to your heart's content, depending on the effect you are trying to give off, or the meaning you're trying to convey.

And I like the meaning of this poem, or at least the meaning that I got out of it. First, the narrator talks about being lost, and "straying off the highway", and not knowing which direction to go to in order to get back on track. I wouldn't say that this is a conceit, but the main idea is carried on throughout the poem, with the Cuckoo's Nest reference, with the not knowing when to laugh, and the "anxiety" of the piano, and the fog... But still, the narrator is addressing another person, and to them, that person is a beacon of hope, a support beam that carries them on their shoulders. So, this gives off a feeling of hopefulness and a hint of optimism.

The noise that the narrator is creating is a cry out to that other person, a call out in the fog for the to find them and bring them back to the highway. And right there at the end, that last stanza confirms it. After ever night comes a day, and there will be other nights to come, but if we use the day to find our way, it will make the nights to come that much easier. And it always helps to have the person that we care about and that we call out for help to. And there's always the hope that maybe they will answer the call that simply radiates from all of our pores, and they will shine their light our way in the fog, and maybe they will carry us on their shoulders. And if they get tired or lost, we'll carry them in turn.

Anyway, that's just how I interpreted it, but I am quite open to alternate interpretations.

I didn't analyse the poem line-by-line, but I think that us talking about it covered that for the most part. If you'd still like to talk about it, I'm always up for it.

Oh, and: I really like this poem and you should definitely write more poetry.

I hope this review was at least remotely helpful. Have a great day!

Heyo, Savvy,

To be honest, I really like this. I'm kind of inspired by it, actually. It's lovely and the meaning is clear but not explicitly stated.

That being said, I think there are a few things you could change that would make this good poem even better.

1. the end of a line does not equal punctuation. While I understand where most of your thoughts end, I feel like more punctuation at the ends of lines would help. Try writing this out in prose format, and punctuating and capitalizing this as if it was prose. That would keep those few errant thoughts that I found in order.

traffic lights are like three-eyed monsters hung from power lines;
bodies swayed by hurricane force winds.

signs lose reckless drivers down interstates
into infinities from which
they can never be resurrected
by moonlight.

and tell me it's important because people who know exactly where to go can never have the chance
to be found.

these experiences are important,

clouds fall like Bromden's smoke

speak music.