Horizon Line Death Trap

[Todd]

Hi, welcome to the site! There's a lot of this poem that I quite like. I'm not sure how much I can say about it in the Novice forum without sort of violating the social contract. I'll try. Here are some comments for you:

I bite my lips
because I want to run away with you,--Optionally, you could break the line after away
but I don't want to say anything.
You notice I'm biting my lips  before I do,
but by now I don't care what you notice.

I see pervasive blue,
it doesn't fill the room
but it's enough to make me not worry
for anything outside it.--I have a more minimalist style than you do, so realize that these are style choices not necessarily flaws. If I were looking to cut the poem down to increase its power, I would consider cutting this strophe. I'll probably suggest other cuts throughout and for me again they are mostly style preferences.

The room is dark,
and full of things to trip over,
it's safer not to move,
but if you don't move,
you'll fall asleep.
So we can't even sit down.--This is another possible strophe to cut. It isn't that these are bad. It's just I don't think you need to include the room. You can keep the lens focused on the people.

I bite my lips
so that I won't kiss you,
or anything pointless like that.

The room is a storm and so are we.--So if you were going to kill the room stuff, you could just rewrite "We are a storm" and maybe an "of" to lead the next line.
Blue evaporated rain,
Condensed tumbleweeds,
burnt fields and cyan lightning,--I like these images, the motion and the color of it all. Purely another option may be to cut blue and just go with evaporated rain and change cyan to blue...This is mostly for the sonics of the line as cyan while cool doesn't sound as good to me (preference).
Chills on my feet,
bristles and whirlwinds
flying brooms.

Falling, falling.
Faster and faster we move,
waiting for the light bulbs in the sky
to crack and break and burn out,
so that we have to go outside.--Great energy in all this. I'm carried along by it all. I like how you handle the light bulbs.

I dream of going home,
all the way,
2000 miles.--Maybe consider condensing these two lines "all 2000 miles"
I dream of the tangible act
of just getting up and leaving.--You probably don't need "just"
But I'd never see you again,
and missing you
is as inevitable as death.--Like the use of inevitable here

Besides,--Probably doesn't deserve its own line.
Home hardly exists compared to this.
I don't believe in Mountains anymore,
Or in the rows and rows of houses
seen from the valleys edge.--Love these three lines. Great content.
I still believe in the poignant--Excellent break
stench of the old lake,
and the battery acid pain
of landing the airplane,
but that's about it.--These were some surprising lines under poignant, "stench" especially.

I dread visiting and trying to make that real.--Not sure this stand alone line does much for you.

It's strange to think that
I'd rather be with you
than riding roller coasters.
Strange that
you know me better
than my best friend does now.

I threw out all my old perfume
and got a new kind,
but it's not like that
will change the smell of my skin.
But you were never bothered
by my reality like I
am, anyways.
You compliment me on my faults
as the earth quakes steadily
and the storm turns inside out
and back again, over and over.

I'm so happy to see you,
It also hurts like hell, but whatever,
there's no one else I'd rather see.--Maybe condense "I'm so happy to see you/that it hurts like hell"

I trust you more than anything.
But I bite my lips,
because if I tell you something,
the world will end.
And the  ceiling will fall and crash,
wood and plaster will cover us,
and the light bulbs will break for real.
The storm will sue me for damages,
but I'll be…


As inevitable as death,
lying on the grass and thinking of you.

Lying alone on my grandfather's lawn.
Listening to the yellow buzz of the TV
coming from the other side of his wall,
the buzz coming from Inside
where they leave the air conditioner
dusty to keep the old people warm. --Enjoyed the language and progression of thought

Lying outside
as the buzz of the TV
and the smells
of carpet and baked beans
drift through the yellow incandescent window.
I'd be Lying on the grass,
ripping the blades with my fingers,
looking up at the silent white stars,
and thinking of you.

Until I got called back
into the hot house,
And strangled by the fuzzy carpet.
All things end.

I never want to go there.
I never want to miss you that much.
I want to run away with you,
but I bite my lips.

We stop dancing,
We climb the cellar stairs
and open the door at the top,
where your clean white kitchen bleeds into us.
The storm touches light
and it evaporates for real.
I cross the threshold before you.
All things end.

I cut down on the comments some because I think I'm overdoing it in novice. You have good energy and pacing in this poem. It was an extremely fun read. There were points that were unpredictable and I found myself enjoying the poem.


Best,


Todd