I drive through the storm.
Marty’s worn tires
coast over slick bridges
while the water laps
at the edges of the road.
DMV says
It takes six inches to float a car.
It takes more to float a soul.
Wipers blades squeal in
the face of futility,
yet my hands grip
the wheel loosely.
The poetry book you bought me
shifts slightly each time I turn.
I can’t hear over
the crackling on the radio,
or just can’t help but think of
how easy it is for
a car to hydroplane.
Tire tracks would lead
to the cottonwood.
The sap would ooze
from the fresh wound.
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139,870 Literary Works • 672,780 Reviews
Heya, Sky! GooseLuck here to do a review for you, so let's take flight, shall we?
I like this stanza, and there's nothing really wrong with it. You keep the narration to a minimum, and it's short and sweet. Perfect for this type of poem, and I enjoyed it. Onward.
With the final stop and the context of the lines, I felt like these would do better at the better end. It would be a final stop, and a good place to end considering,"It takes more to float a soul." Gives a bit of a depressed eerie feel to the whole piece, and I felt like that was better at the ending of it rather than almost at the exact beginning of the piece. Anyway, onward.
I didn't like the choppiness of this, and I felt like you could do better. I would suggest playing around with formatting and punctuation until you get a feel of naturality and it looks t your standards as well, the choppiness just got to me is all. Anyway, onward.
I like this, no critique.
Anyway, overall I think mainly that you have flow issues and could do with a bit of tweaking in your imagery, but I think that's you're doing good and that you're going places.
I think that's all I have to say on this one and I hope it helped.
Keep on doing what you're doing and keep on keeping on.
Sincerely, GooseLuck
I drive through the storm.
Marty’s worn tires
coast over slick bridges
while the water laps
at the edges of the road.
DMV says
It takes six inches to float a car.
It takes more to float a soul.
Wipers blades squeal in
the face of futility,
yet my hands grip
the wheel loosely.
The poetry book you bought me
shifts slightly each time I turn.
I can’t hear over
the crackling on the radio,
or just can’t help but think of
how easy it is for
a car to hydroplane.
Tire tracks would lead
to the cottonwood.
The sap would ooze
from the fresh wound.
Amazing writing. It contains every good character of a great poem.
Keep it up
Becca here for a review.
Thanks so much for writing this piece--best thing I've read on here all week.
I think the best part of this poem is the pace. There's nothing in this poem that slows it down and it's speed definitely builds suspense. I love your descriptions here: "coast over slick bridges," "water laps at the edges of the road," and "sap would ooze from the fresh wound."
I like how the car is a plot device to talk about the deeper story here, which I presume is about a love relationship.
The juxtaposition of float a car/float a soul is absolutely beautiful.
This poem is littered with so many beuatifuld escriptions, but I think I might want one more love related plot detail at the end. Obviously it's your call as the writer. Hope to see more of your writing!
I like the details you put in your poem. I also like how you described "The sap would ooze from the fresh wound." I am still a bit confused about what this poem is about though. Is it about the car floating? If it is, is the car floating? Who is Marty and what connection does he have to the main character? Does the driver crash? Your poem is a bit unclear and confusing in some parts, but I really like the words you used to describe certain things in the poem like, the water lapping the side of the road and the poetry book sliding around. I hope my review helps improve your poem!