"commute"
poetry by
kathleen
28 February 2002
10 comments
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i stood in line waiting
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to recieve my communion from the rusted token booth
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eppy:
More about the rust, maybe--clearly it wasn't all rusted, or it wouldn't work. Where was it? What patterns did it make? Etc. |
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the line was long
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eppy:
This line should either be part of another or spruced up a lot--taken by itself, it isn't substantial enough, rhymically or otherwise, to just be sitting there all alone. |
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i stood listening to my
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personal preacher
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running on double A's-
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choir sold seperately
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eppy:
You might want to cut this line--the previous works pretty well for a stanza-ender. |
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made eye contact with a stranger
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no words passed-
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not in the subway car of god
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the fire and brimstone lined the tracks
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where the mice used to run
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eppy:
Nice... |
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but at last we could see what we feared-
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finally.
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eppy:
A little too pat, I fear... |
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like mysterious words
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quoted from the Bible-
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everything seemed out of context;
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at least with damnation you got a ride,
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eppy:
Nice line. Maybe a good end? |
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instead of being fettered to the yellow line.
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brantley:
Well, the thing I got most out of this was the curious comparison of commuting with religion. Have you thought of handling that idea in a more explanatory form, like an essay or a long prose-poem? The connections you make here are tantalizing, but it doesn't seem like you have enough space to really flesh out the idea. Just my opinion, of course. |
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kathleen:
hmmm... i never thought of that, but i like that idea alot. thanks i will definately try to expand it. =) |
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egail:
I'm wondering what kind of poem would happen if you started with the line "at least with damnation you get a ride"...? I think you might also play with a formal (as opposed to free verse) version that uses repetition of lines. |
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Content © copyright 2002 by Kathleen Wilson. All rights reserved.