It came at a time when I watched you build the world;
When I balanced myself on wooden planks, inhaling the shavings of sawdust
and rusted poles, or sat on cinder blocks with nothing to do; never fully aware that I was watching you,
or the sunset-- or that far in the west lovers did the same, but with prejudice;
not seeing how highways and horizons filtered through haze,
or that the glare on railroads was better than a dozen bands of gold necklaces.
From the small of our lawn, gold fell over streets like the thinnest shavings of wood;
or through windows, on an oak cabinet as the shadows of branches swaggered;
your silhouette hunched over blueprints behind a sinuous stream of smoke.
Distilleries fell from your tongue and then hung on the breath of air
that trickled my hair-- a stale, secondhand comfort that tucked me in with intoxicated blankets.
From the doorway I saw the sun go down behind telephone poles like the browning spot on a bulb--
I loved it not because it gave me longer days but because it faded paths and seeped
like resin behind construction sites, as I watched the world set
and then harden.
Author notes
This is fresh for revision. I am really struggling with the rhythm in this piece.
Update: Went through first revision. It is more like a vignette or prose poem than any other. I'm fine with that.
Does this read smoothly, or choppy?
Comments
-
I liked this. I like how you give a detailed image at every opportunity, not settling for generalities.
The section about (your father's?) drunken breath breaks the flow a little. It's a vivid memory, but maybe doesn't belong here.
I wonder whether starting with "I watched you build the world;/ I balanced myself on wooden planks,.." would be a stronger opening.
"And rusted poles" enjambed stands out too far. I had a hard time connecting it back to "shavings" as an image.
"But with prejudice" wasn't clear to me. Maybe just a different phrase how lovers see the sunset.
Gold like shavings of wood nicely refrains the opening. That's a nice effect.
I liked "the browning spot on a bulb". "I loved it not..." seems a little weak. I expected a statement of epiphany here, like, "Then for the first time..."
Overall, I liked the blend of sunset and construction site images with an extension of the meaning of "set" at the end. An enjoyable read.
Adding your comment:
