Asleep Somewhere on Thirteenth and Elm |
the_recluse
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you can’t speak to the night,
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though it speaks to you,
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in the sound of Bessie Smith
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singing blues, her voice
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mingling with the static
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of a half-tuned radio.
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and you can’t be heard
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above the slowness of water
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trickling endlessly down the gutter
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and flirting with car tires
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on sundry streets.
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'cause no, the night will not try
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to speak to you
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above the sound of
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a phantom lover’s voice,
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ghostly murmurs of smoke and honey,
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whispering intangibles
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that linger like perfume.
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7 Mar 07 |
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Comments:
Another good one from you. Just a few nits:
l7 - I would prefer one or the other and take out the parenthesis.
l11 - not sure about (sundry) streets though I can't think of another alliterative word other than several and that just kills it.
l16 - I would lose 'dripping'. It's not necessary, and used with honey becomes too cliche.
Just personal nits...I do like this a lot.
S
— unknown
Thanks for your comment. I made some changes in lines seven, twelve, sixteen, and seventeen.
— the_recluse
I like this a lot. Line 7 - begin with and? Are you sure that's the best thing?
This is a case where smallness fits the mood of the poem.
— Isabelle5
Isabelle - Thanks for reading this. I'll think about changing up line seven. It bothers me too.
— the_recluse
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