Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Drafty in here

This is rough, and it won't stay up long.


[And, gone. If you missed it and want to see it, email me...]

10 comments:

Garbo said...

I like it, Anne. How old were you when the tornado damaged your house?

When the storm sirens go off here, I think about the kids in Iraq and in Israel, and how the sirens go off there so often and for so long.

Anonymous said...

I really enjoyed your imagery in this poem. I'd say if you start with line 8 and tighten up the line breaks you really have something here :) I love the idea of tuning on the TV to hear the static and how that connects to the rest of the poem.

I grew up near the coast and we had several tornado scares.

Jessie Carty

brent goodman said...

Beautiful in its unfolding. I'm going to carry these lines around for a long while:


Storms are smell as much as sound, approaching,
the crackle of ozone in the nose: I am a hound for it: I push
my face into the night, the wettened wind,
suspicious.


Thank you Anne!

Brent

Collin said...

Brent beat me to it...love those lies. The line breaks are rough and need some work and I'd even think about breaking this up into stanzas. Great imagery, Anne!

Collin said...

ooops...

lies=lines

firstcitybook said...

I like your imagery. You could play up the synesthesia more. Are you native to Indiana? I wasn't aware that chernozem, the black soil you mention, can be found in Indiana; it seems more typical of eastern Kansas and the Great Plains in general.

Pamela said...

I really, really like this draft. I'd probably start a stanza (maybe even the poem) at the lines that Brent and Colin have already praised:

Storms are smell as much as sound, approaching,
the crackle of ozone in the nose: I am a hound for it: I push
my face into the night, the wettened wind,
suspicious.

I think they bear requoting! This is lovely, strong and metaphorical as well as imagistic. All of the writing is lovely, yet this is hits-it-out-of-the park good.

I am also very fond of "I mind the cups of my ears," which is hound-dog true.

Thanks for sharing this.

Anne said...

Thanks so much, y'all!

Garbo - I was five when the tornado whomped our house (1966).

Collin: Poems are nothin' but lies anyway. Great typo. *grin*

firstcitybook: That's really amusing, because I was actually born in eastern Kansas (Topeka) and that's where I got whomped by a tornado. (It was an F5 -- killed a little over a dozen people and injured over 400 -- so it was, uh, fairly memorable.)

Brent, Collin, Pamela: I am rather fond of the hound line, myself. So I'm glad others like it. :)

Montgomery Maxton said...

i read it before you took it away anne and i loved it. i was certain i posted a comment but then i remembered i lost my internet connection while typing the comment and had to reboot. ah! computers.

Anne said...

Thanks, MM!

Internet connections go down more often than ... oh, never mind.

:)