NASTI NATI VS. THE LAKE
ROUND 1 PART 1
This city makes me feel like I have a constant fever.
All the noise and dirt and grime and gutters get inside of me.
Raising my temperature.
Circulating and pumping into my head.
Constant heartache.
Slammed doors and burnt rubber.
Reverberating up and down my spine.
This city makes me feel like I’ll never be well again.
Some dull aching feeling in my skull.
Makes me want to tear apart every person I’ve ever met.
No Help, No Light, No Life
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3 comments:
Kelly, I LOVE this poem, the heart and disgust and heat of it. Those first five lines are absolutely killer. And the way you develop the oppressive, almost apocalyptic, nature of the city environment as a thing that gets insidiously into one's blood is really effective.
I'm wondering how you feel about the last line--particularly the final phrase, No life? That seems like possibly a bit of a misstep to me, because obviously the speaker is ALIVE in spite of the fever and heartache and filth. Is there another phrase that might open the poem rather than shut it off like a spigot--one that still gets at the damned nature of the city's (and the speaker's) sickness, and that allows the poem to linger/explode? Does that make sense?
Also, have you read Paul Auster's In the Country of Last Things? I bet you'd really dig it.
All best,
Matt
I understand what you're saying, but I'll have to think about it. I haven't been able to think of anything else yet, but I'll give it a go. As for reading Paul Auster, that would be a no. Something else to look for.
-K
welcome to cincinnati, my friend.
to our credit, we did get the honor of jumping from eleventh to seventh worst air quality in the country.
who dey.
ps. good grit.
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