the (loathsome) dark

 

 

this (mourn)

ing

i

stirred

by the flash(light)ing

ill

uminating,

a

wake

ned,

to my

dark(

drunk and bleary)

ness.

wriggling

in my seat

pressed hands

and watching

them

search

ing

for my

true

nature) of the

BEAST!

 

this morn

i’m

ill

to my

self,

(ish

fool),

searching,

for the good in,

the back seat,

(me),

wrist hurt flat

shaking my

dis a p   pointed head,

in the

police car.

 

Reviews

[Emilia]

Ross,

I loved the concept of this poem and I am quite sorry that it has taken me this long to read it. However, I will note that I believe that there are some issues with this poem, notions that aren't fully expressed or aren't realized. My favorite parenthetical side thoughts were these:

i�m
ill
to my
self,
(ish
fool),

by the flash(light)ing
ill
uminating,

However, I believe that the other ones need a little work--play with the language and see if you can develop these push and pulls between two words with different meanings for most of the language. I would give some examples but I am kind of pressed for time.

Definitely unique, though. Kudos for originality.

[William J. Wilkins]

You have an uncanny way of shaking things up with your weird way of breaking lines and words. I love it when the tale is *not* in the details, but in the parentheticals. Nicely, nicely done!

[Ilene M.W. Lush]

great. pointed head. like the breaks. tells the story completely.

[Hedra Helix]

ohhh ohhh what did you do?!