tryin to get the flow back. bear with me.

alone smokin hookah in some suburb, in a stupor
thinking how i'd describe blue to a blind man, or internet dating
to my dad - no matter how i word it, it sounds absurd.
sinking deeper into leather couches; i'm lightheaded and might vomit -
i play it off cool though and feel my phone motionless in my pocket.
maybe soon it will vibrate with the agenda for the evening,
or it won't and the moon will keep peering in while i'm dreaming -
often i think about my generation,
whether i was meant to embrace it or
only swim in circles in its estuaries.
i think about how much i wish
the moon could talk back to me when i ask about chicago's cemeteries,
about what it sees when the snow falls and the ground is frozen - i'm wondering
how often it manipulates the tides to swallow lovers laying on the beach
or if it's simply indifferent, operating like clockwork til the seasons cease.
i'm prone to believe the former though i wasn't always like that -
maybe it's just because tonight the sky is a wild purple and my
lungs are black.
here, My Dear, here it is
Last edited by SubwayToVenus at Apr 9, 2015,
love this. 9/10
If you do something right, no one will know you've done anything at all

Proud to be called Best Friends with Pastafarian96
this picks up at "often i think about my generation..." (btw, that line is gold). before that, it meanders and seems a bit too slow on setting things up. I didn't like the opening line especially, "alone smokin hookah in a northern suburb, in a stupor", it's a lot of literal information to process very quickly and it does little besides set up where you are. however, once this picks up, it picks up and flows so smoothly. the ending is good also. i think it's just that first 8 lines or so that do little for the rest of piece.

thanks for posting, happy to read your stuff.

often i think about my generation and whether i was meant to embrace it
or only swim curiously in its estuaries. i think about how much i wish
the moon could talk back to me

a last thought. i wish you would linger more on the generation thought. personally i sympathize with the sentiment and from that i would've liked more treatment of it, but as it stands, these two lines don't seem to complement each other so well. in a way they do, it feels like a natural progression of thought, like a stream of consciousness, but technically i do sense that there's a bit of a rush getting into the motif of the moon.

just a thought.
I think the thing about the opening line is that "northern" doesn't place us quickly enough. I'm not aware of the poem's Chicagoness until several lines later.

I wonder if "it sounds absurd. i feel obnoxious," could be condensed to just "it sounds obnoxious"or something similar to bring some more directness to the flow there.

"estuaries" feels slightly offbeat when I first get to it, but it also sets up the cemeteries rhyme. I wonder if you could just adjust the syllable count in that line and it'll click.

I like the end of the color spectrum you're working with here, and it's progression to the end. Nice to read you again.
thanks for the great tips guys. i agree that rhythmically this had a lot of rough patches so i went back and did some tweaking/omitting to assist with the flow.

hippie, i agree with you that this isn't as economical as it could be. the "generation" sentiment in that line you mentioned is also something i still have more to talk about, i think. my goal is to keep exploring what i'm trying to say with that. i've been thinking about it a lot but those thoughts are still very amorphous.

thanks again.
here, My Dear, here it is