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Purge

Brother, you've hurt me.
I'm heart sick with guilt.

There are sunflowers in the heart of this city.
My anger eloped with my drive to acieve.
Your head's on my chest and tonight you're my girlfriend,
we'll both cry and cry until you fall asleep.

I will always love you,
but my selves won't love me.

I had a dream once that made sunflowers grow
in your hallway where it rained, and you
twisted your tongue with both hands
and left a Siamese burn.

If you're a man, gender must be a fiction.

Brother, forgive me if I uproot all my sunflowers,
or switch-blade-rape their centers, or yours.
And if I plant something else in their place,
tell me it's alright to feel this way.

With your hands on my waist while I avoid your eyes,
and while our rib cages interlace,

call me your brother.

Author notes

As per usual, I'm being too ambiguous for it to make a difference.
I know you know I mean it, even if you don't know what I mean.
I'd send you the song, but you won't get around to listening.

    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
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Comments


  • Max Ritvo
    November 4, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    As per usual your imagery is disturbing, vivid, and jarring. The sunflower imagery in particular was surreal and evocative- especially in the fourth stanza. The interlacing rib cages made me grit my teeth.

    I feel like you miss out on subtler emotional intonation by packing so much dense, agnstful imagery right on top of itself. I'm not left with any specific or articulatable emotional resonance- but perhaps that was part of your purpose.

    I can't quite wrap my head around whatever story-line is operating behind these images- and that creates a great deal of distance between myself and the poem. You might try beading in more literalistic lines, or using a punch-paragraph or title to sort of create a canvas for your images to play on. I just feel a little stage-setting is in order.

    I get the sense that this is really personal, and there's nothing wrong with that- but you have such a talent for imagery that I'd really be interested to see it exploited in a story that, perhaps not being so intimately tied up in your experience, you would feel more comfortable relating it more clearly.

    Just my Two Sense (if I had to pick, they'd be sight and touch)

    Max