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Threads: 59
Joined: May 2026
On Acceptance
And nights I dream of violence, huge erect machetes
kissing down my neck. You know the poet Anne Carson
snores louder than Minerva? Eros and/or Eris sings
instructions to the dagger hung above Anne Carson’s
skull, she is stoic in the deathroom. When my marriage
atrophied, they removed the heart to show Anne Carson
what decay can really do (Greeks are sluts for mulch). God
maintains a healthy distance from Anne Carson’s garden,
being such a modern girl. It’s all He can do to not
reach down and pluck cymbidiums. I read Anne Carson
in your voice, a rumble in my gut pronouncing
what the tongue can't handle: this morning, betrayal, Anne
Carson’s one poem set in Venice. Oh, you Bridge of Sighs—
it seems a man escaped at night, left one Anne Carson
holding Dido’s bag. In Carthage, a beautiful boy
kisses first, then asks my name. I tell him Anne Carson
and he giggles, holds up a wriggling fish. Do it like
we do it, Luke, he urges. Eat the sucker whole.
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(08-20-2026, 12:18 PM)matsunosuperfan Wrote: On Acceptance
And nights I dream of violence, huge erect machetes
kissing down my neck. You know the poet Anne Carson
snores louder than Minerva? Eros and/or Eris sings
instructions to the dagger hung above Anne Carson’s
skull, she is stoic in the deathroom. When my marriage
atrophied, they removed the heart to show Anne Carson
what decay can really do (Greeks are sluts for mulch). God
maintains a healthy distance from Anne Carson’s garden,
being such a modern girl. It’s all He can do to not
reach down and pluck cymbidiums. I read Anne Carson
in your voice, a rumble in my gut pronouncing
what the tongue can't handle: this morning, betrayal, Anne
Carson’s one poem set in Venice. Oh, you Bridge of Sighs—
it seems a man escaped at night, left one Anne Carson
holding Dido’s bag. In Carthage, a beautiful boy
kisses first, then asks my name. I tell him Anne Carson
and he giggles, holds up a wriggling fish. Do it like
we do it, Luke, he urges. Eat the sucker whole.
I hate to admit that I have no clue what the poem references, because Anne Carson seems like an incredibly interesting poet! However, I still enjoyed reading this work, your structure takes the reader on such a fun journey with their eyes and their ears. I think my favorite line of this whole piece is your opening sentences, "At night I dream of violence, huge erect machetes/kissing down my neck." At least for me it reminds me of the cliche about dreaming about lovers at night while being about something completely different. The contrast is so much fun. Thank you for sharing!
Posts: 230
Threads: 59
Joined: May 2026
(09-15-2026, 10:06 AM)ouroboros Wrote: (08-20-2026, 12:18 PM)matsunosuperfan Wrote: On Acceptance
And nights I dream of violence, huge erect machetes
kissing down my neck. You know the poet Anne Carson
snores louder than Minerva? Eros and/or Eris sings
instructions to the dagger hung above Anne Carson’s
skull, she is stoic in the deathroom. When my marriage
atrophied, they removed the heart to show Anne Carson
what decay can really do (Greeks are sluts for mulch). God
maintains a healthy distance from Anne Carson’s garden,
being such a modern girl. It’s all He can do to not
reach down and pluck cymbidiums. I read Anne Carson
in your voice, a rumble in my gut pronouncing
what the tongue can't handle: this morning, betrayal, Anne
Carson’s one poem set in Venice. Oh, you Bridge of Sighs—
it seems a man escaped at night, left one Anne Carson
holding Dido’s bag. In Carthage, a beautiful boy
kisses first, then asks my name. I tell him Anne Carson
and he giggles, holds up a wriggling fish. Do it like
we do it, Luke, he urges. Eat the sucker whole.
I hate to admit that I have no clue what the poem references, because Anne Carson seems like an incredibly interesting poet! However, I still enjoyed reading this work, your structure takes the reader on such a fun journey with their eyes and their ears. I think my favorite line of this whole piece is your opening sentences, "At night I dream of violence, huge erect machetes/kissing down my neck." At least for me it reminds me of the cliche about dreaming about lovers at night while being about something completely different. The contrast is so much fun. Thank you for sharing!
Thank you so much for reading! The ostensible form is "ghazal" so there should not really be a narrative through line, but hopefully the individual strophes create some associative energy. I'm glad you liked the machetes line <3
Posts: 627
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(08-20-2026, 12:18 PM)matsunosuperfan Wrote: On Acceptance
And nights I dream of violence, huge erect machetes
kissing down my neck. You know the poet Anne Carson
snores louder than Minerva? Eros and/or Eris sings
instructions to the dagger hung above Anne Carson’s
skull, she is stoic in the deathroom. When my marriage
atrophied, they removed the heart to show Anne Carson …. All echoes of her poetry
what decay can really do (Greeks are sluts for mulch). God
maintains a healthy distance from Anne Carson’s garden,
being such a modern girl. It’s all He can do to not
reach down and pluck cymbidiums. I read Anne Carson
in your voice, a rumble in my gut pronouncing
what the tongue can't handle: this morning, betrayal, Anne
Carson’s one poem set in Venice. Oh, you Bridge of Sighs—
it seems a man escaped at night, left one Anne Carson
holding Dido’s bag. In Carthage, a beautiful boy
kisses first, then asks my name. I tell him Anne Carson
and he giggles, holds up a wriggling fish. Do it like
we do it, Luke, he urges. Eat the sucker whole.
I read Anne Carson’s “Clive” poem and found her to be a typically insufferable leftist who inhabits a typical liberal arts bubble and has never sold paint in Mauritania.
I’d initially confused her with Anne Sexton, who’s admirable.
The poem itself - number of interesting images. But too many, and unconnected except by the Anne Carson motif. Not having read her to bits, thank god, I don’t follow much of it
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I personally find the blank lines in the middle of ideas distracting. Can you explain their function here? Then perhaps I can comment further.
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