the fragmented format definitely lends itself to the post modern fragmentation of identity, that is being addressed here. sociology loves sociologists. i feel the same aimlessness. a good write old friend.
The image of an empty hourglass is so fitting, we do kill, time and ourselves, the glow of something warm and meaningful just doesn't have rave reviews in America anymore.
Plink, the slot machine just gave me back my coin. I think it's a blessing in disguise. Will the real winner please stand up?
I just wrote a piece about how half of my family killed itself with alcohol because of boredom, yes, they thought money was important. No, love is important. Keep telling us in the voice you have and maybe someone will begin to listen.
Well where to begin... let me say that i'm both honoured and humbled by your dedication, particularly as this is easily your best work for a while, that savage wit flailing like a beast!
My only real suggestion, before i wax lyrical, is maybe a title. I'm thinking 'Bovine University', it could be just my Simpsons fetish coming through but i'm sure you'll agree that it's rather apt. Came to me instantly after reading through on first read.
I think, and totally juxtaposing TD's imagery, this poem evokes the scene of cow paddock, and we're all chewing away on our cuds, belching, growing fat, fat and stupid and standing around staring aimlessly into the abyss. This may offend any farmers we have out there, but it's the mood that does it for me. Cows resonate that sense of an apathetic, benign pathos, growing fat on the farm but what for. The head is empty.
Go back to the herd! Moo a little to show your indignation but grow fat. One day you will graduate to the BBQ.
I disagree with TD, i don't think you had my works in mind at all with respect to this piece, flattered though i might be. This is working on all together different themes as she pointed out: consumerism. Eat, sh it and die. Maybe there's a message in that for me ;-)
Okay, I have to start by saying that, in a way that I find hard to pinpoint exactly, this reminds of a prose I read recently by a friend on this site. Not a copycat mind you, just elements of the mood/message.
Anyway, enough of my ramblings ;-) (as if that will ever happen)
First up: form, form, form – you always make the most of form in your work – I love it!
Aimless, Endless – technically a wonderful flow, and tone-wise it just drips. Then you move on to your real meaning …. and there is a real desert, vacant feel to this (maybe it is the sand reference, but it just reeks of emptiness – of the soul, direction and so on).
"No sand
Its cash" [minor query – did you mean "It's" instead of "Its"?] This is where the poem turned for me and the real, real meaning hit home. Damn direct, and damn effective ! yeah, ashamedly, that's what I want.
This was a really creative write Screams (as always). Where will our consumerist (is that even a word?) ways lead us?!? Lurrved it!
Cheers, ~TD
Haha – I just read your description and when I mentioned the prose earlier, I was totally thinking of Abzy's "Summer Saw you Wasted" LOL - But I wonder if this was really in connection with his "Crossroads" ??? curious :)
Submission Name: Diffused
