DISQUS

"wide brown eyes watched each gray
body fall in the truck with a crash of dust."

I love this... how crashes are supposed to be loud and heavy, and the dust is silent - but it floats away to infiltrate other places.. I don't know what I'm trying to say, I just love the image. This is great.

I really like this. I don't think I've read many poems about moving... but it seems like such an obvious topic to right about.. since all these weird obstacles, and stress go hand in hand with it. Not to mention for most people it's some kind of a turning point or new beginning.

For some reason I'm very averse to moving.. even within the same city.

Anyway, the poem is great.. and made me feel like I was moving through an illustrated children's book.

That recipe is all in German :\

"Whose American wife was German enough
to grow coarse black curls on her calves and ankles" - I especially love this part. After reading the poem, it makes me want to start baking some German Apple Cake or something.. !

I guess I should respond to everyone's comments to show my appreciation for their interest.

L.L. - sometimes "I like it" is all a writer needs to hear to feel like their work is worthwhile. Thank you.

Eve. I agree that some of the images are disturbing, and that's why I made myself write this. It's more or less this recording of a two-sided story my parents told me. They both knew this boy, Crowell, and attended his funeral - and both had a different perspective. (The first part of the poem is my dad's story, and the last part is my moms', Teeny.) I guess I felt like these horrific events/lessons in life are worthy enough for a story. And lastly, some of my favorite poetry is "over my head," or disjointed as I call it. Thanks for your comment.

Charity - I never thought anyone would read the poem, but I imagine what you took from it is exactly what I wanted to happen. Your insight is inspiring to me - makes me want to write more than a few days out of the year. Thank you!

One more thing, what do you call someone who writes, but isn't a writer? Like: I'm a cook, not a chef. I'm a ______, not a writer. What is that?

I feel like such a bad blogger/commenter friend for not commenting sooner. I spent the weekend in Dallas for AFI. That was pretty awesome, and crazy.

Goodyear, thanks for posting my poem, it's the highest form of flattery for me. I really appreciate it - and I look forward to reading more of your poems (if you choose to post them). I don't mind constructive criticism either, it always helps, and there's always room for improvement in a "finished" poem - at least for me.

And thanks to everyone who commented. I'm so flattered I'm embarrassed :P

Agreed on the "technology at its best" thing. I tend to forget the positive sometimes :\

As far as stealing and pirating.. I don't know a lot about programs that support BitTorrent or even how to use them (it must be pretty darn easy - but I don't ever plan on trying). But, there's so much controversy around this stuff and the RIAA... I assume there will be some kind of solution in the future? I don't know. That's probably optimistic.

Anyway, if you like Sufjan you might want to check out Beirut, relatively new band.

I don't think it's a whacky sci-fi delusion. Technology is both great and scary b/c of the things you bring up.

This is just my opinion; but, I have a feeling your florist-phenomena is correct - for certain sectors. Whether traditional publishing will survive or not, I don't know. I guess it depends on adaptability - for example, newspapers, someone wrote a book about them and how they're slowly disappearing called The Vanishing Newspaper.

All these things are happening now, and it's really interesting to be here when it does - even though I'm not really abreast on everything that is going on. I suppose it's a matter that relies on both parties - a supplier's adaptability and knowledge about being online, the power of interactive online communities/blogs and the ability to take full advantage of it - and a customer's sentimentality toward physical things. When it comes to music, I'm always going to choose a CD with a cool little booklet that I can look through as opposed to buying little information packets of music floating around online.

On the subject, I'm more worried about the social effects of all this technology. It's great having everything you need streaming out of your computer, but I think our ability to interact face to face with people is slowly being compromised and neatly boxed away in a room, on a chair, and in front of a lap top.

I hope it's alright to comment. For some reason your poem left me on the brink of emotional. I guess 'Paradise High' brought me back to high school and how - pretty much every single day - I was in awe of how exceptionally altruistic you were with everyone (I imagine you're still this way). Generally, I'm pretty heartbroken about how awful people are sometimes, and it feels like altruism doesn't exist at all. But, then I think about my mom, and you - the only two people I've met on this earth that are just plain good to the bone - and it makes me feel better, like finding a clock to check the time or something.

Thanks for putting the poem up.