Will you give me a hand finishing a poem? I’m currently feeling a bit impatient and am not willing to let this one sit while it brews through my brain.
I am happy with parts of it, some falls short and it needs reworking. However, when I do a rewrite, I usually have the feeling that I’ve written a final line for the version I’ve drawn out of myself. When this is missing, it’s really hard to go on with the process of revising. You have the feeling that while you knew you couldn’t see the flesh of the creature, you are currently missing a leg bone or some other bit of scaffolding that is equally important.
So, if you will, can you give a shot at writing the last half-line to line? Obviously, if it seems more than just a line is missing, you are more than welcome to add more and comment on what less would help the poem.
While you’re in a poetry-reading mood, why not check out this link to a poem written by my sister, Sandra Evans, who as honored with a selection of her work being posted to the Minnesota Artists.org website?
- Currently Untitled
I have discarded myself—the better parts
and buried the fear. April’s floodwater
washed it clean in the Spring melt.
Which is best: discarding or recovery?
My answer is that it doesn’t matter:
I’ve watched people succeed with either one.
But this isn’t all of the truth, innocent one.
It’s the destruction, even of good things,
that calls the bones to mend, ___________________________.
And that’s where it ends now. It’s meant to be a short look at how impermanence can be positive, part of a cycle, etc., etc. But I think good language is more important, even if the new language, in its turn, undermines and redirects the preceding lines. There’s not much there and I’m not saying any of should be set in stone. Language, cool words are the best, so lay it on me, baby.