Untitled (after busker)

[matsunosuperfan]

apologies to the poet - fell in love with that line and couldn't help myself

Untitled
after busker

Love is the only foolish 
adventuring we do, a story 
most convincing in the absence 
of the truth. 


Part a pair of parrots, and 
they’ll pluck themselves to death. 
The clock starts ticking once the plumage sheds
its final breath. 


I looked for you in London, where the air
is thick with memory—you weren’t there,
but your sister was. The cockles
made me sick. 


Time accrues. It wraps around
the throat and closes slow, until
one morning, you just don’t wake up.
And you’re the last to know. 

[busker]

"you weren’t there,
but your sister was."

threw me off a bit. not sure if adding the sister works.

"Time accrues. It wraps around
the throat and closes slow, until
one morning, you just don’t wake up.
And you’re the last to know. "

This is splendid. A poem in itself.

[wasellajam]

apologies to the poet - fell in love with that line and couldn't help myself
I'd prefer you to say the exact line you're using or use quotes or italics for it.


Untitled
after busker

Love is the only foolish
adventuring we do, a story
most convincing in the absence
of the truth.
This sounds great but I'm unconvinced by "absence", there's probably a shred of truth in there to even remember it.


Part a pair of parrots, and "and" stands out as a weak break and padding.
they’ll pluck themselves to death.
The clock starts ticking once the plumage sheds
its final breath. Again these two lines sound great but they stop me because the clock starts with the separation, no?


I looked for you in London, where the air
is thick with memory—you weren’t there,
but your sister was. The cockles
made me sick.
I've grown attached to these lines, emotionally charged but it may be my own association with my sister and London and a bit of foolishness. The use of cockles is interesting, "air is thick with memory" sounds cliched but does its job.


Time accrues. It wraps around
the throat and closes slow, until
one morning, you just don’t wake up.
And you’re the last to know.
Meh to these last lines, the poem might be stronger without the summation, you've already got food poisoning.

Thanks for posting this, always fun to be inspired by someone else's work to the point of writing your own.

[matsunosuperfan]

"you weren’t there,
but your sister was."

threw me off a bit. not sure if adding the sister works.

"Time accrues. It wraps around
the throat and closes slow, until
one morning, you just don’t wake up.
And you’re the last to know. "

This is splendid. A poem in itself.

Thank you for the inspiration and the kind words. I think the middle section needs more clear direction, or less.

---

apologies to the poet - fell in love with that line and couldn't help myself
I'd prefer you to say the exact line you're using or use quotes or italics for it.


Untitled
after busker

Love is the only foolish
adventuring we do, a story
most convincing in the absence
of the truth.
This sounds great but I'm unconvinced by "absence", there's probably a shred of truth in there to even remember it.


Part a pair of parrots, and "and" stands out as a weak break and padding.
they’ll pluck themselves to death.
The clock starts ticking once the plumage sheds
its final breath. Again these two lines sound great but they stop me because the clock starts with the separation, no?


I looked for you in London, where the air
is thick with memory—you weren’t there,
but your sister was. The cockles
made me sick.
I've grown attached to these lines, emotionally charged but it may be my own association with my sister and London and a bit of foolishness. The use of cockles is interesting, "air is thick with memory" sounds cliched but does its job.


Time accrues. It wraps around
the throat and closes slow, until
one morning, you just don’t wake up.
And you’re the last to know.
Meh to these last lines, the poem might be stronger without the summation, you've already got food poisoning.

Thanks for posting this, always fun to be inspired by someone else's work to the point of writing your own.

I appreciate all the thoughtful notes! Definitely some crufty bits here and there to distill/excise/replace/reinvent. Thanks for taking the time <3

[RiverNotch]

Echoing an earlier critique, would have the lines that inspired this be in quotes (though if they aren't in the piece, then it doesn't actually matter).

Love is the only foolish 
adventuring we do, a story 
most convincing in the absence 
of the truth. Charming stanza. I suppose the foolish adventures of the past six years---of the past year alone, even---are all rooted in some form of love, whether the love of money or the love of death, assuming a "we" broader than the speaker and the addressed.

Part a pair of parrots, and 
they’ll pluck themselves to death. 
The clock starts ticking once the plumage sheds
its final breath. Echoing an earlier critique, the last two lines of this stanza sound great, but are somewhat confusing or redundant. Would just cut them.

I looked for you in London, where the air
is thick with memory—you weren’t there,
but your sister was. The cockles
made me sick. The first two lines of this stanza remind me of what I've read by Eliot, and I'm assuming from another discussion with the inspirer that it's a deliberate allusion. Then the last two lines are more grounded, the last sentence humorously so, which is nice.

Time accrues. It wraps around
the throat and closes slow, until
one morning, you just don’t wake up.
And you’re the last to know. Echoing both earlier critiques, this stanza as a whole is also charming, but somehow part of it is superfluous, especially the last sentence (I mean, if you "just don't wake up", then you don't exactly know, do you? then the last to know is actually the ones who find your body....). I suggest cutting the last two lines entirely.

Oh, and hopefully you think of a title, or maybe just have "After Busker" be the title.

[matsunosuperfan]

Echoing an earlier critique, would have the lines that inspired this be in quotes (though if they aren't in the piece, then it doesn't actually matter).

Love is the only foolish 
adventuring we do, a story 
most convincing in the absence 
of the truth. Charming stanza. I suppose the foolish adventures of the past six years---of the past year alone, even---are all rooted in some form of love, whether the love of money or the love of death, assuming a "we" broader than the speaker and the addressed.

Part a pair of parrots, and 
they’ll pluck themselves to death. 
The clock starts ticking once the plumage sheds
its final breath. Echoing an earlier critique, the last two lines of this stanza sound great, but are somewhat confusing or redundant. Would just cut them.

I looked for you in London, where the air
is thick with memory—you weren’t there,
but your sister was. The cockles
made me sick. The first two lines of this stanza remind me of what I've read by Eliot, and I'm assuming from another discussion with the inspirer that it's a deliberate allusion. Then the last two lines are more grounded, the last sentence humorously so, which is nice.

Time accrues. It wraps around
the throat and closes slow, until
one morning, you just don’t wake up.
And you’re the last to know. Echoing both earlier critiques, this stanza as a whole is also charming, but somehow part of it is superfluous, especially the last sentence (I mean, if you "just don't wake up", then you don't exactly know, do you? then the last to know is actually the ones who find your body....). I suggest cutting the last two lines entirely.

Oh, and hopefully you think of a title, or maybe just have "After Busker" be the title.

Appreciate the feedback; great notes. I'm not sure where this one will go. It's very loose at the moment so the next trajectory could be anything.