Your poem makes me connect with images of emptiness, hollow, shallow, death shadows. Mimes remind me of ghosts. The poem works, especially because it conjures up strong feelings. I also like the image of taut mercy...very compelling..
This minimalist poem has had me thinking for awhile now. To me, it seems to be about withholding - you're lamenting a a lack of generosity or openness perhaps. Or not having much to give. Taut mercy is no mercy at all, is it? I think that the words you chose underscore that idea anyway - last of them , away, tired, old, dried, sliver, bone, naked, hollow. And even though the subway is coming, by it's very nature, it's also leaving, no time to stick around. And of course the mimes themselves withhold their voices, and thus themselves, from the rest of us. Those damn mimes could be more giving! Your one upbeat word, dancing, provides a stark contrast, further highlighting the poem's depressed mood. And the very sparseness of it, too, very few words, few lines, make the reader (me!) feel held out on - in a way that works for the poem, though.
Not a frivolous word anywhere. Nice work, as always!
Mimes are indeed sickening, i have never had much of a time to enjoy their "arts", sometimes i just wish they could all turn into banjo players or something! I like the dried slivers of bone reference, to me this indicated the mimes themselves as dry for their lack of humor and boney for not actually having any 'flesh' in terms of entertainment. I liked this, it was refreshing.
I'm not really sure what to make of this. The words sound great together, certainly, and I appreciate the imagery and the flow. However, I'm left feeling somewhat confused. I'm sure there is something I'm missing; some integral concept that would bring it all together. I'm trying to picture a mime choir. A mime, in silence, communicates through action; a singer, through sound. Sound is vibration, traveling to ears; action is transmitted to eyes through light and motion. I am trying to imagine a silent choir, moving through its motions that would be as a song, then turning to leave, disappearing into memory. I can then see clearly the forgotten bleached slivers of bone, once a part of something alive and vital, existing now as fragments of a very real life. What's more is that the drum is also a fragment of this life, now creating sound. Ahhh, is this what you were trying to say? Life, sound, motion, all leave something behind. They may leave memories, and even physical remains, both of which continue to exist, but in a different way. The energy is continuous, but in a constant state of flux that is visible to the open senses. Maybe I'm trying too hard to conjure up some meaning when your words are supposed to be appreciated for what they are; a clear and beautiful image. However, if the meaning is what I suspect, you have accomplished something truly wonderful, a deep and thought-provoking work of art. Many compliments to you on this painting of words.
I had to smile... how I hate mimes. (New Orleans... the most useLESS "skill" to throw your money at are the mimes. Resume Entry-- experience? Standing Still/Sitting/Balancing On Box) aNyway, great little think splat here. I like the twist the last 2 lines put in your head. taut mercy... what a thought.