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Click hereWednesday
black ice dawndrive
standing still
I overtake
the battered tractor trailer.
For 30 seconds we keep pace
The empty chicken truck and I
Hollow steel cages stacked ten high
A single white feather
blasts into the whistling wake.
All day I am occupied
stacking pebbles
meetings about meetings
and is that fucking computer still acting up?
When I finally climb to my cutting car
sealed and inert at last
When I finally pound my weighted BB brain
into submission
with an exquisitely-selected playlist
(Did you know you have your own post-us playlist now?
La Cienega just smiles and says "see you around.").
There it is
Packed now
with hunkering raspy creatures.
When I accelerate into January
I realize
I am avoiding their wild eyes.
Got nothing much more to say than that I liked it. To make jaded interresting takes a good storyteller.
Love the way the detail of the mundane and in ways ridiculous day ("meetings about meetings"--I've been there!) is bookended by a feather (great foreshadow) at the start and that excellent last strophe, which puts the whole poem in perspective. But I do agree with others that the part about the music are detractors (to me). "exquisitely-selected" and the two lines in parentheses are the only offnotes (imo) in an otherwise terrific poem.
Thanks, Chipbutty, for the feedback. The poem is a little flabby, and losing those lines makes it flow better.
I'm not a ruthless enough editor; I get lines that are like a piece of artwork in your house you know is ugly, but still want around.
if you could afford to lose those lines about the music entirely:
Wednesday
black ice dawndrive
standing still
I overtake
the battered tractor trailer.
For 30 seconds we keep pace
The empty chicken truck and I
Hollow steel cages stacked ten high
A single white feather
blasts into the whistling wake.
All day I am occupied
stacking pebbles
meetings about meetings
When I finally climb to my cutting car
sealed and inert at last
When I finally pound my weighted BB brain
into submission
When I accelerate into January
I realize
I am avoiding their wild eyes.
maybe the whole notion of the music being a distraction, a misdirection even, is important to you... i just feel it's less important to the poem. and i do really like this, particularly the images you bring with
black ice dawndrive
standing still
I overtake
All day I am occupied
stacking pebbles
sealed and inert at last
"When I accelerate into January" is so original!
not too keen on the title. my brain's being a twit and keeps throwing 'Fowl Play' up at me and smirking. no, that is not a recommended title.