Generic and uninspired. I usually don't comment on your work, because it isn't normally worth my time. The very premise of the piece itself is to be called into question as the content that you present is very vapidly cliché. I'd scrap this or work to retool it so it isn't something taken off of the back of a videogame box or a shitty C-list movie.
I kind of like this poem, in a way it reminds me of a deep and consecutive amount of thought, how in this frame one day can be the same as another and seven lots of this because as the thing I know as a week.
how that outward expansion of time, in allotments,
allows us to plot or place an experience, recognize a difference; one thing may be the same as another and then no thing is ever the same. it gives us a scale we could not have imagined.
The manicured lawns are cut down, to say they confessed nothing is a high end thought.
And I like the use of Caps - especially
'And a wavering sun as though the cosmic thread'
so that when I read that line it can be a complete and full line.
And I like the feeling I get from this piece about place, like the writing, this writing, is just a piece, a point of gravity the author has pulled down, important, and much, and still nothing
in the way that something opened can never be finished. an endless momentum, and still- we sit and hope. and look to find ourselves within it.
True, i project too much, but what i find in this one is a deep melancholy and the movement of searching.
So nice to see you around and active as a poet.
In a sort of related way, after always wanting to see the movie 'Apocalypto' i finally watched it, and yup, the cyclic thing - we all have our struggles and no thing is ever the same. kind of humbling though, to see families torn apart, lives ended, worlds forever changed. Today is Wednesday and I have watched it each night this week.