SUBJECT>Re: Concentric POSTER>Sachi EMAIL> DATE>1109114555 IP_ADDRESS>s01i34-0758.no.powertech.net PASSWORD>aahjAZfa05xEY PREVIOUS>83743 NEXT> 83781 IMAGE> LINKNAME> LINKURL>

Si Mon

Very nicely crafted.

Since the title is such I presume the poem is designed not to reach anywhere specific..and that in a way is it's triumph.

But endings without closure, such as this one, can sometimes disappoint those that like the ends tied.

I liked the way you modulate..orange and door hinge..is a true bright spot. The last line fizzles and you may tone down the abstraction.

Good read as always. Sachi

: I’m thinking about how the sun crashing
: through this dirty window is like a laugh track
: and how all the people who supplied the mirth
: within the track are probably gone.
: So sullen you say. Well listen here Betsy,

: the sky is never just blue. Clean your brushes.
: Tell your kittens the only rhyme for orange
: is door hinge. There’s the door. Stomp the
: terra.
: By gone I mean no longer here. Here
: from the Middle English. Neither here nor
: there.

: But if it’s there, then trust it is thereafter.
: A place void of dirty sunlight.
: Where the only laughter is green and rings
: the inner ear. Where the ear is strewn ash
: or something less specific.