Response to MacKenzie's Improv 1 Week 12
At our touch, the planchette[B1] twitched, then darted
from hello to letters, spelling "Seven" backward. The only voice
heard, Neves[B2] , my midnight fling on my best friend's
staircase, after too much Mountain Dew and a teaspoon
of Blair Witch straight to the paranoia gland.
[B3]
We intoned, "O spirit, tell us your name,"
even though A[B4] OL Search said that opens doors
to dimensions of murderers, rapists, men
who kicked puppies in life and trail hands down spines
in death, who lurk in the closet-corners
longing fro[B5] the chance to thread foggy fingers
through the locks of the living.[B6]
At 2:22, the quick and the corpse converge, and I am thirteen,
quaking, Coast to Coast Ghosts cool beneath my free palm.
Leslie Rule writes, "Burn sage to clear the house of anxious spirits,"
the nail-biters and teeth-clackers. "Imagine your house
blanketed in the calming green of the sea," but
all I see is sunlight hitting surface as I clamor
for the air.
Oui. Ja. Yes-yes board. You glow in the dark,
as if we would turn the lights out.[B7]
from hello to letters, spelling "Seven" backward. The only voice
heard, Neves[B2] , my midnight fling on my best friend's
staircase, after too much Mountain Dew and a teaspoon
of Blair Witch straight to the paranoia gland.
[B3]
We intoned, "O spirit, tell us your name,"
even though A[B4] OL Search said that opens doors
to dimensions of murderers, rapists, men
who kicked puppies in life and trail hands down spines
in death, who lurk in the closet-corners
longing fro[B5] the chance to thread foggy fingers
through the locks of the living.[B6]
At 2:22, the quick and the corpse converge, and I am thirteen,
quaking, Coast to Coast Ghosts cool beneath my free palm.
Leslie Rule writes, "Burn sage to clear the house of anxious spirits,"
the nail-biters and teeth-clackers. "Imagine your house
blanketed in the calming green of the sea," but
all I see is sunlight hitting surface as I clamor
for the air.
Oui. Ja. Yes-yes board. You glow in the dark,
as if we would turn the lights out.[B7]
[B2]Cool…”Seven” I was wondering at first why that was capitalized but then realized it was this name spelled backwards.
[B7]I’m going to get right to the point since that’s what we do. I think that this stanza rocks and “thread foggy fingers / through the lock of the living” is awesome, as is the next stanza. I’m right with you until “but / all I see is sunlight hitting surface as I clamor / for the air.” This might be a dense moment but… I don’t get it. Try to clarify this idea in some way. As far as the title, or lack thereof, try using the idea we spoke about on Monday (something that has nothing to do with the draft but that sparks interest?). Great draft!
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