midnight augury///mrv

[Michelle Vessel]

Midnight Augury

If you wanted to,
you could probably
conjure me, six-
teen.

You’d recognize the elbows,
the cardigan, the riverbank,
the markdown, the indistinct
nesting-doll grief.

Now if that forlorn candy wrapper –
That void sullied meat –
Could’ve hoist her eyes higher --
cast her whys way way out

past the greedy reach of that gaudy smear of
flat-tire summer (haunting girlfriended boys
on an oceanless beach)

would she beg to bloom into right-now me?
could the me that I turned into seem like
being free?

Or would she cringe and fold back into then --
give up on midnight augury?

-------
25 march 2000
mrv

[Scott Murphy]

"Would she beg to bloom into right-now me?" There are some other lines that
get me with almost equal intensity, but that one seems like the balance
point.
How could I, could anyone, forsee that what we would become would be OK or
enjoyable, or even tenable? But in spite of the worst forebodings of
adolescence,
things often do work out.

To say "void sullied meat" is over the top to me, at least in a short
lyric poem. In some gotterdamerung tinged saga of a thousand lines it
would be no big deal--a toss, off or dramatic relief. In context, where
almost everything hurts to read, it modulates the drama off my scale.

-Murphy

Michelle Vessel <mve...@bellsouth.net> wrote in message
news:38DDA04B...@bellsouth.net...

> Midnight Augury
>
>
> If you wanted to,
> you could probably
> conjure me, six-
> teen.
>
> You'd recognize the elbows,
> the cardigan, the riverbank,
> the markdown, the indistinct
> nesting-doll grief.
>

> Now if that forlorn candy wrapper -
> That void sullied meat -

[Martin Haas]

I agree with Murphy about the sullied meat, but was really impressed that
you got this question, this "time changes us in unforeseen ways" into such a
short form, and was able to bring it out. First stanza is good, pulled me
right in, then the feeling I was looking at a photo of you, especially liked
"nesting-doll grief," because I do know what you mean but not why I know or
how. I always like being confounded when words gives rise to an emotion or
image without an exact representation, but almost an archetype of thought.
Really a good capture made here.

[Michelle Vessel]

In retrospect (and in reciting this in the shower, etc.) I agree with both of
you about the "void sullied meat" line. I think it kind of inadvertantly reveals
a level of emotional engagement with the subject that doesn't fit in the context
of this speculative, semi-objective, question-asking poem. I think I still need
a similarly descriptive line there, but I'll try for something less jarringly
negative. I really appreciate both of your comments.

--Michelle

[Aarpa-Zzarpa.BCP SunYangkey.Homing]

======southern bottom oven broiled chiken wrote==
Group: rec.arts.poems Date: Sat, Mar 25, 2000, 11:29pm (PST+2) From:
mve...@bellsouth.net (Michelle Vessel) midnight augury///mrv

Midnight Augury

If you wanted to,
you could probably
conjure me, six-
teen.

You'd recognize the elbows,
the cardigan, the riverbank,
the markdown, the indistinct
nesting-doll grief.

Now if that forlorn candy wrapper –
That void sullied meat –

Could've hoist her eyes higher --
cast her whys way way out
past the greedy reach of that gaudy smear of flat-tire summer (haunting
girlfriended boys on an oceanless beach)
would she beg to bloom into right-now me? could the me that I turned
into seem like being free?
Or would she cringe and fold back into then -- give up on midnight
augury?

-------
25 march 2000
mrv

=======AlphaSunWrites====================

. . hhmm

if eYe read this piece
in the cotext of r.a.p.
for the past several years,
and lingo,

"give up on midnigh augury?"

would say, yes.

tossing in my two cents for Michelle