It's the use of familiar sensations that I like about this poem. It's not high and full of your self imagery but the stuff we know and are familiar with in life as we live it. I should right like this more often. Sometimes I think I am Byron of Milton and get lost from the physical world. Language is beautiful but so is the everyday experiences of life. That's not to say that the language here isn't beautiful or that there isn't depth in the poem, rather the imagery is immediately tangible and relevant.
my oldest sister cathleen, she's uncanny with her ability at the crack up. you love to hate her, you're fierce with your hating of her, but darn it she cracks you up.
my step-father's dad died and there we were in the church..... singing the hymns and such, this dude launches into the chorus, quite terrible-walrus bad, and she looks over at me and we're off. it was the most shameful thing and to this day i am embarrassed, but also, i love her for it.
so yes, i like the way you controlled the introduction, because there is the danger that the poem could be taken as the author steering us toward something funny.
i like the bits that other people liked. i don't mean to short change you, i mean i liked them and that adds to what you can collate, grab hold of or subtract, and take as worth.
what i didn't like was the close, where the mechanics, for me, seemed to slip away into an outright statement, and by that i mean that you could phrase it a dozen ways, what comes across as important (to the narrator) is the getting out of the words. that's true, that's great, but it doesn't affect me.
getting back to mechanics, repetition and such.....
you began with two ands,
and, i truly love ands, and i think that that symmetry is where it works.
you come up with an idea, crack it open and make two, or turn it back on itself.
you do that throughout the poem.
so i saw those two ands at the first as a good opportunity to close.
i'll leave the idea with you and some fashioning of an example....
i am awake
and captured in
the glare of another
night without you.
I think most of us have an "Aunt Ruth". I read this in your journal & I'm glad you posted it. I think what I particularly like is that it is disjointed & out of place with itself, as you are obviously feeling with your current predicament. It's amazing to me that poetry can be so physically representative, as well as emotionally. I also like the repetition. It's almost like you're fixated on certain qualities & they keep popping up.
is a wake
is just perfect. I like when poems have this kinda inner-speak going on. Makes it honest & devoid of the poet's critical eye & editing.
(though it's an ache i wish you didn't know).
stony and cold.
if it helps any, my oil ran out and it's cold as a mofo. doesn't help that it's cold out too. not sure if i feel stony yet. but i am stoned and sipping bourbon. and i haven't smelled smelly morning breath since summer.
(the above is all filler, because sometimes i just don't know what to say).