Comments on: Earful

By: Dave

Dave — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 14:21:21 +0000

Oh, I don’t know. I’d love it if someone compared my methodology to necrotizing fasciitis. But ORVs (or ATVs as we tend to call them here) are from hell. I would support an open season on them with no bag limits. ORVs don’t leave ruts: ORV drivers do. Yes, ORV ownership and NRA membership do often go hand-in-hand, affirming the white American male’s sacred right to terrorize.

I think you’ve convinced me about the wisdom of dropping “bacteria,” though. I like the poem better without it. Thanks. (The title’s gonna remain “earful,” though.)

By: Dave

Dave — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 14:15:52 +0000

Hey, thanks for the feedback. I’m glad you found the presentation useful. In the past, I’ve been reluctant to share early drafts, since I tend to view this blog more as a publication than a notebook — but of course there’s no reason why it can’t be both.

By: JMartin

JMartin — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 16:12:07 +0000

I should have guessed that ORV, like necrotizing fasciitis, is impossible to twist into compliment. Any allusion to adventure is necessarily subsumed by the actual experience of despoliation.

But I can’t leave my analogy to die on (off) the road. To travel perforce renders an impression. The ORV leaves (is designed to leave) a fresh impression. “Ruts” in contrast consist of repeated impressions in the same place such that they trammel future trajectories.

ORVs don’t leave ruts: ORV drivers do.

Barbara is right, I think, on ticking meat. Although you were prompted by bacteria, the poem suggests aging generally. The unspecified allusion lets everything tick: heart; blood cells paying single-file toll in capillaries; DNA-bases slotted into the helix like abacus beads; the telomere count-down.

Ticking Meat as a title: go.

By: Elizabeth Enslin

Elizabeth Enslin — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 04:42:07 +0000

I love how you gave us a window into your process by presenting both poems. It gave me a better sense of what to do with this method (though I’m humbled by where you took it). “O rare and wild ear”: I have a feeling that line might stick with me for some time.

By: Dave

Dave — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 16:39:17 +0000

I’ve never been called an off-road vehicle before, but O.K.! (You know those things carve ruts almost everywhere they go, though, right?)

I’ll let you and Barbara (see below) argue about whether I should’ve put the bacteria in there. I sometimes wish I didn’t feel such a compulsion to make at least some kind of sense in my poetry, but to one’s own self be true, I guess. Not familiar with that SF reference. Maybe someone else will be.

By: Dave

Dave — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 16:34:52 +0000

Steal all you want, as long as I get credit. :) But I’m glad the title proved such a useful prompt. It was fun watching your poem unfold on Twitter.

By: Dave

Dave — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 16:33:46 +0000

Thanks. I was kind of pleased with that myself!

By: Dave

Dave — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 16:33:08 +0000

Good to hear you say that. I was worried I ruined it.

By: Dave

Dave — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 16:32:37 +0000

I didn’t quite do away with the ticking meat, but I did explain it — which may or may not have been a mistake. Thanks so much for the thoughtful feedback.

By: Barbara

Barbara — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 14:49:46 +0000

Ah, this is nice. I haven’t made it past your previous step. I hope you don’t throw away “ticking meat” which gave me a whole raft of thoughts–hearts, clocks, deists. Love the ear/jar/gyroscope chain.

The physical form works really well for this, which no one would mistake for prose.