Retrieving a Swallowed Watch

by xhalcyonx128

Published November 8, 2007

To delve into the heart of trouble,
while the matter is still fresh,
is to cut open a live alligator’s stomach
searching for a swallowed golden watch.
The creature screeches and thrashes
then swerves around to bite clean off
the hand that searches for the lost item.
All that is left of the reconnaissance is a bloodied stump,
its owner scurrying away from the monster.
How do we retrieve this golden watch
while the beast lives so vibrantly?
The only response is to wait
until the animal has died
then slice open its stomach to thoroughly search the contents.
The unfortunate truth
is the creature may outlive the treasure seeker.

Comments & reviews · 2
User avatar
Leja
Review
Leja wrote a review Review · Nov 10, 2007

First, may I say I really like the title? Because I do :D

Lovely premise! I like very much. Especially the first few lines in relation to the last few lines. However, you might want to consider more closely your word choice. The alligator "screeches and thrashes" but think about what you're trying to replace with the alligator. Are there words that might be more fitting than "screeching" and "thrashing"? Apply to all descriptions of the alligator.

It seems a little prose-like to me; everything's in a full, complete sentence, properly punctuated. Don't be afraid to change it up a little; leave what is needed and see if you can cut some of the rest. I know it can seem tempting, but the more fun you have with structure, the more options you have with meaning sometimes.

For the future, I think this'd be more of narrative rather than dramatic poetry as there is the clear story of the alligator.

You could clean this up very nicely, I think!
PM me if you have any questions; I'd be happy to help! ^_^
-Amelia

User avatar
Zappy77
Review
Zappy77 wrote a review Review · Nov 8, 2007

It's really good and it sort of reminds me of the "Frog Princess" except a lot more bloody! :twisted:

- zappy77 8)



The very worst use of time is to do very well what need not be done at all.
— Benjamin Tregoe