Phantom Limb (v2)

[matsunosuperfan]

Phantom Limb

I text your mom more than I should—twice
as much, she swears, as her daughter ever did.
Neither of us believes in Heaven, second chances,

all that taffy people swallow after grief, which remains
a soggy, flaccid word. It reeks of mildewed flowers, baby’s
breath, avulsions wrapped in drug store gauze:

Sorry for your loss. I lost my hat, I lost my phone, I lost
my best friend. Language throws its hands up
desperate, begs us not to shoot. We take care

not to look it in the eyes, like putting down a Doberman. But how
Does it hurt, I wonder, when the question mark spits out the little dot?
Does it take special effort, or can change just happen

naturally? Maybe questions are like lizards and can let their limbs
fall off at will to get away from hawks. Maybe it’s more like how
a fox, caught between abrupt steel jaws, immediately understands

the only way to live is to chew straight through the bone. Some kind
of survival instinct baked into the genes. You had twirled your tongue around
the concept over our last coffee. I said I could never—even in desperation,

who can bring themselves to cut off their own leg? You said I’d be
surprised. The dog lives with your mother now, who never liked
the ocean. She takes her every day. We never use your name.

Pretty much just addition by subtraction with this draft. Giving this a try before giving in to the impulse to simply add more in the middle.

I wonder if there’s a happy medium between the compressed version and the original.
This is pretty fantastic—I don’t think I quite would’ve worked out that it was about suicide without reading the original though, not without quite a few readthroughs at least.
In the first draft, this probably gave it away because it revealed the friend was ‘culpable’ for the death:
She tells me over and
again how grateful she is I knew you, because your mom
is stupid, because she still can’t let herself admit this
was also my fault. 


 
 
It reeks of mildewed flowers, baby’s
breath, avulsions wrapped in drug store gauze
I agree these are improvements, especially ‘mildewed flowers’. I like the juxtapositions. The soft/pretty become grotesquely cloying.
The colon is a nice link to the next stanza.
 
 
We take care
not to look it in the eyes, like putting down a Doberman.
10/10 simile. Also agree it doesn’t need the expansion of the original— hits home just like this.
 
The lizard and fox comparisons also right up there. Carry over brilliantly to the discussion of suicide as well—can’t unsee it once you’ve seen; just could give the reader a helping hand earlier on.
The confluence between suicide, skirting difficult questions and the impotence of language is really well achieved. I also like the last line’s variation on the Doberman simile. Do dogs react to the names of their deceased owners? 
It goes to show how effective a poem can be by choosing the comparisons well.
 
I didn’t mind but what did you expect? from the original. The train of thought progressed smoothly with this.

Enjambment is nice with the But how and the capitalized Does it hurt… starting the next line, as if it could stand alone. Then parallels well with the Does it… on the next line.
Also nice that the questions are emphasized to introduce the discussion of questions.

Some kind
of survival instinct baked into the genes.  Also agree this could probably be improved.
But think, I lost my best friend is fine. Makes the point you’re trying to make about language clearly—the clarity is good among the dense creativity.
 
And it goes to what I’ve already said but

You said I’d be
surprised.
 
Packed a real punch following the fox comparison— I felt the anguish of the friend.

Stan, thank you so much for taking the time to give such a thoughtful reading. It's very valuable to hear what works, as I live in constant self-doubt. Appreciate the notes <3 I think I will try to bring back some of the language you noted was helpful for direction.