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I pick shrimp
from woven noodles
my glasses cloud
I hold the chopsticks
the noodles slipped through
a flash of light
from the next table
a fork shines
too proud to give up
noodles splash my tie
still hungry
I recall the taste
half eaten meal
I search into night
for an ice cream shop
Edit the last stanza- just cut it. The poem ends 100 times more powerfully with " half eaten meal". However, if you were trying to create a juxtaposition of the Asian food (foreign) to American food, then I would try to develop the ice cream part more.
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 38,000 poems.
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Simple complexity in both the writing and the subject, emotional and physical. Many layers to this write.
thank you for the read
du lac~
mentioned in the Sunday reviews
I pick shrimp
From woven noodles
It's so simple it should be easy but we all know it isn't.
I was captured!
b'brig
I've been there!!! I love the idea and think that with a teeny bit of editing this could be a truly great poem!