The Misfire

[thewilderhen]

The Misfire

I think about the way you laugh,
not this neon bracelet.
A nurse says to someone passing the open door
it’s a front line Friday again.
I look out the window. I see the university
so well-lit it could have a racing track, too
invisible cars going around.

I think about the way you laugh,
not the university.
Years ago my English professor
asked me what Stein meant when she
called front line soldiers dough-boys,
if it was her way of looking at sex. I said no,
happy to play lesbian translator. She says dough-boys
like a pity: they’re only men, no
meat on the hips like the rest of us.

I think about the way you laugh,
then I move to the top floor. 
Here they’ll take away paperwork
like it’s a blue book, they put unknown
for the rest and it’s accurate.

When you’re asked what you want
you feel the stringy pause
after you say I’d like to know what’s going
on, a diagnosis.

They’ll say, you grew up in a war zone 
your stress has softened your head.
You pity them. They’re only men, explaining
what it’s like to be made of dough.

___________________________________

This is very much a draft, and I feel the meaning is unclear. What is your interpretation, dear reader?

[tweetywrites]

I interpret it as a disconnect between what the speaker knows emotionally and what institutions can articulate. There's no way to convey emotions and stories to academic or medical frameworks without losing meaning. May I ask what your intended meaning was?

[Johicopter]

The Misfire

I think about the way you laugh,
not this neon bracelet.   Is the narrator wearing the neon bracelet or visiting the subject who has the bracelet?
A nurse says to someone passing the open door
it’s a front line Friday again.
I look out the window. I see the university
so well-lit it could have a racing track, too
invisible cars going around.

I think about the way you laugh, 
not the university.
Years ago my English professor
asked me what Stein meant when she
called front line soldiers dough-boys,   I love the repetition of "front line" from the previous stanza. It suggests a subconscious thought process guiding the narrator.
if it was her way of looking at sex. I said no,
happy to play lesbian translator. She says dough-boys   It took me a second read-over to understand that this is the narrator's interpretation of "dough-boys". At first, when I read "She says dough-boys", I assumed it was the English professor doing the saying, not Stein as interpreted by the narrator.
like a pity: they’re only men, no
meat on the hips like the rest of us.

I find it very interesting the narrator says they think about the subject's laughter and not the university, but then go off on a tangent about a university memory. I expected at some point the narrator to describe the "way you laugh" but it is noticeably absent...

I think about the way you laugh,
then I move to the top floor.   Again "move" is ambiguous. Is this a visit or a patient relocation?
Here they’ll take away paperwork
like it’s a blue book, they put unknown   Love the blue book detail. Hate blue books themselves, lol.
for the rest and it’s accurate.

When you’re asked what you want   This stanza tripped me up. It took me awhile to understand who "you" was. Who is doing the asking?
you feel the stringy pause
after you say I’d like to know what’s going
on, a diagnosis.

They’ll say, you grew up in a war zone 
your stress has softened your head.   Because quotations are not punctuated in this poem, "you" is again ambiguous here. It could be the same "you" from the first line or a quotation directed towards the narrator.
You pity them. They’re only men, explaining
what it’s like to be made of dough.   Very interesting callback and final line. Because dough is associated with male-ness and some kind of lacking, it seems the illness being faced is either trauma-related or the men are projecting their "dough-ness" onto the patient.
___________________________________

This is very much a draft, and I feel the meaning is unclear. What is your interpretation, dear reader?

I really liked this poem. The level of detail is great and I especially appreciate how you can kind of follow the narrator's subconscious train of thought.

I find it difficult to be left with a solid interpretation because, after really reading through the poem multiple times, I still don't know who is unwell. As far as I can tell, there's nothing that definitively indicates whether it is the narrator or the subject, which left me feeling a little like I'd missed something (which I might have), although I am leaning slightly towards it being the subject who is sick. I think a lot of the ambiguity could be cleared up with a little punctuation, word choice, and use of active instead of passive voice.

My interpretation is that someone is in a hospital for a trauma/mental illness-related ailment. The narrator and subject seem to be repeatedly dealing with people (men) who project their own meanings onto others. War is also associated with some kind of weakness, whether it is soldiers lacking meat on the hips (and possibly subtextually the less-violent maturity of womanhood), a "softened" head, or the title of the poem itself.

If I may offer some structural feedback beyond my interpretation, I think that this poem is stronger than the "I think about the way you laugh" line. I feel that the poem is organized by a fairly followable train of thought, and doesn't need the repeated line to organize it. I also think the repetition sets up a payoff that never happens. I expected some lines describing the laugh, or at least some callback to the line in the final stanza, but that doesn't happen. Instead, the dough-boys line is the payoff of the poem, and I feel it is much stronger and more unique. "I think about the way you laugh" may have been central to how you conceptualized the poem, but I think the poem no longer needs it.

Despite all these comments, I really, really enjoyed this poem. One of my favorites I've read on here so far.

[busker]

The Misfire

I think about the way you laugh,
not this neon bracelet.
A nurse says to someone passing the open door
it’s a front line Friday again.
I look out the window. I see the university
so well-lit it could have a racing track, too
invisible cars going around.

I think about the way you laugh,
not the university.
Years ago my English professor
asked me what Stein meant when she
called front line soldiers dough-boys,
if it was her way of looking at sex. I said no,
happy to play lesbian translator. She says dough-boys
like a pity: they’re only men, no
meat on the hips like the rest of us.

I think about the way you laugh,
then I move to the top floor. 
Here they’ll take away paperwork
like it’s a blue book, they put unknown
for the rest and it’s accurate.

When you’re asked what you want
you feel the stringy pause
after you say I’d like to know what’s going
on, a diagnosis.

They’ll say, you grew up in a war zone 
your stress has softened your head.
You pity them. They’re only men, explaining
what it’s like to be made of dough.

___________________________________

This is very much a draft, and I feel the meaning is unclear. What is your interpretation, dear reader?

It's an engaging bit of story telling, with the line pauses at the right points.
The 'war zone' is interesting. The dough men interpret a problem according to their own experience. They can't imagine it on someone else's terms.
It's not just men/women - the wider interpretation is group A / group B, or even self / others.

I would like to know more about the specifics of the work (blue book / unknown) and the perhaps lesbian lover, but it's not essential.
Excellent poem.

---

With an apt title - dough men / misdiagnosis

[milo]

Hello There

The Misfire

I think about the way you laugh,
not this neon bracelet.
A nurse says to someone passing the open door
it’s a front line Friday again.
I look out the window. I see the university
so well-lit it could have a racing track, too
invisible cars going around.

so, you have a bit of narration going on here.  Much of it is introspective (in the narrator's head) and not overly interesting to a reader. Consider the neon bracelet - is this a metaphor?  Is it symbolism?  Does it allude to something larger that will make this more expansive than it is?  Every line is end-stopped.  Line breaks are landing at the ends of thoughts.  What would it look like if written out in prose?

I think about the way you laugh, not this neon bracelet. A nurse says to someone passing the open door it’s a front line Friday again. I look out the window. I see the university so well-lit it could have a racing track, too invisible cars going around.

It looks like prose (and not too interesting prose).  I am of the opinion that chopping prose up doesn't make it any more poetic.

I think about the way you laugh,
not the university.
Years ago my English professor
asked me what Stein meant when she
called front line soldiers dough-boys,
if it was her way of looking at sex. I said no,
happy to play lesbian translator. She says dough-boys
like a pity: they’re only men, no
meat on the hips like the rest of us.

The first line has turned into a refrain.  I think it needs to be stronger to be more interesting.  I am not sure it is a cliché but if not it is teetering on the edge. As for the rest, it seems your narrator is maybe attempting to "walk" through her life to contrast that to her current situation.  Stein is introduced but falls away fast in her importance.  I vaguely recall reading some Gertrude Stein at some point and I googled it along with dough boys to see if I could understand how you were trying to strengthen the poem here but I couldn't figure it out. TBH - there seem to be a lot of red herrings here.

I think about the way you laugh,
then I move to the top floor. 
Here they’ll take away paperwork
like it’s a blue book, they put unknown
for the rest and it’s accurate.

ok, it is a hospital/dying relation poem.  They are tedious for sure, but I think you could work harder to capture it.  Also, for me at least, the refrain starts to grate, my mind is starting to filter it out as if it doesn't exist.

When you’re asked what you want
you feel the stringy pause
after you say I’d like to know what’s going
on, a diagnosis.

They’ll say, you grew up in a war zone 
your stress has softened your head.
You pity them. They’re only men, explaining
what it’s like to be made of dough.

Do they ask what you want on the top floor of a hospital?
"you feel the stringy pause" - who is pausing?  If they are asking "you" a question, they are pausing, so they wouldnt be feeling th pause but they would be pausing.  Also, - stringy -IDK how to process that.  If it is supposed to be an image, I am not getting it at all.

"They'll say . . ." - who will say this? Some detail would be nice so your reader can experience this as well
I guess it is "they" that are only men explaining what it is like to be made out of dough?  What a pity, I guess

___________________________________

This is very much a draft, and I feel the meaning is unclear. What is your interpretation, dear reader?

TBH - the meaning is very unclear but I don't think that is the biggest problem here.  I have read many great poems where the meaning wasn't clear, I feel the biggest issues here are that the poem is not engaging enough, it lack interesting imagery or language, attention to sound or other such devices that produce an enjoyable read.  The narrator is unclear.  The second person is unclear.  But worse, neither of them are that interesting.  You thinking about someone laughing isn't interesting unless you ground them and I don't think you have accomplished that here.

Thanks

[thewilderhen]

I really liked this poem. The level of detail is great and I especially appreciate how you can kind of follow the narrator's subconscious train of thought.

I find it difficult to be left with a solid interpretation because, after really reading through the poem multiple times, I still don't know who is unwell. As far as I can tell, there's nothing that definitively indicates whether it is the narrator or the subject, which left me feeling a little like I'd missed something (which I might have), although I am leaning slightly towards it being the subject who is sick. I think a lot of the ambiguity could be cleared up with a little punctuation, word choice, and use of active instead of passive voice.

My interpretation is that someone is in a hospital for a trauma/mental illness-related ailment. The narrator and subject seem to be repeatedly dealing with people (men) who project their own meanings onto others. War is also associated with some kind of weakness, whether it is soldiers lacking meat on the hips (and possibly subtextually the less-violent maturity of womanhood), a "softened" head, or the title of the poem itself.

If I may offer some structural feedback beyond my interpretation, I think that this poem is stronger than the "I think about the way you laugh" line. I feel that the poem is organized by a fairly followable train of thought, and doesn't need the repeated line to organize it. I also think the repetition sets up a payoff that never happens. I expected some lines describing the laugh, or at least some callback to the line in the final stanza, but that doesn't happen. Instead, the dough-boys line is the payoff of the poem, and I feel it is much stronger and more unique. "I think about the way you laugh" may have been central to how you conceptualized the poem, but I think the poem no longer needs favorites I've read on here so far.

Thanks for your kind words and valuable critique! It will be helpful as I revise, revise, revise. My weakness is using “I” and “you” interchangeably. Trying to convey emotional distance? Or lazy writing!

[milo]

Yes, hospital poems are terribly tedious. I hope some of them are important for others to read, but it can feel a bit like literary onanism. I have waded through and attempted to make the narration/subject clearer. But now I’m adding more to it so I can cut it down to something more incisive, less like therapy. So I will let the next few drafts remain unshared. Thanks for your feedback!

---

To clarify, I meant hospitals are tedious, it is a trope.  Hospital poems can be quite good, I have written half a dozen or so myself, I am sure

Thanks

[thewilderhen]

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1767154224[/url]']

Yes, hospital poems are terribly tedious. I hope some of them are important for others to read, but it can feel a bit like literary onanism. I have waded through and attempted to make the narration/subject clearer. But now I’m adding more to it so I can cut it down to something more incisive, less like therapy. So I will let the next few drafts remain unshared. Thanks for your feedback!

---

To clarify, I meant hospitals are tedious, it is a trope.  Hospital poems can be quite good, I have written half a dozen or so myself, I am sure

Thanks

What a bummer, then! I hope you’ll have no more tedium in your future

[milo]

1767180860[/url]']

1767154224[/url]']

Yes, hospital poems are terribly tedious. I hope some of them are important for others to read, but it can feel a bit like literary onanism. I have waded through and attempted to make the narration/subject clearer. But now I’m adding more to it so I can cut it down to something more incisive, less like therapy. So I will let the next few drafts remain unshared. Thanks for your feedback!

---

To clarify, I meant hospitals are tedious, it is a trope.  Hospital poems can be quite good, I have written half a dozen or so myself, I am sure

Thanks

What a bummer, then! I hope you’ll have no more tedium in your future

Me too but I feel it is the fate of all of us in time