New Yorker Poem Reviews
hopefully I did this right once more
Considering that I’ve written about a personified sun before, I’m impressed with the ends the writer chose to include, such as how the sun sets instead of blazing ‘till the end. I especially liked the name “Miss Yelloween”; it was surprising but intriguing to see the longing he has for the little Miss being reflected in the latter stanzas. I only wish that they could clarify if the relationship was spiteful or desperate. I don’t want to throw a subtle lens on the work and assume it’s for my feelings.
The intensity of this is scaring me, and it gets to the point where the theme is obscured as the entire poem vibrates with something stronger than hate. The imagery of the hurricane at the beginning is great! I want more of it throughout, or at least a callback before diving deep into Hell. As the poem ended with the last line, I felt a little offended that I’m both human and referred to as “you”; I want some names, if they’re at liberty to give them.
God the stanzas are so short, the lines are so biting and it’s like I’m the one spitting those words! It gives me their well-deserved malice in this paper airplane clad in needles and I love it. I only wonder about the significance of “I, Rose” and if it really is their name or some given name. The last remark made me grin a little when the informal diction came back full circle.
This was sort of difficult to read, what with all the loaded language and phrases and just- the imagery isn’t on a set line and it’s jarring. I enjoy the slow onset and soaking of red as I continue but I feel that this would be a collection of poems rather than just one long poem… Then again it may be called “X1” for a reason, maybe resembling an album. The theme is plain to me after skimming it backwards for the third time.
Usually I’m not a fan of second-person pov, thanks to a certain question that was popped by a teacher, but this perspective does work here with it’s directness. This leaves me feeling sad because it ends on a literal blank note; I wanted the same desperation the book introduced itself with in the first place, with words like “soaked manifests,” “vestiges of travels gone by,” etc. Besides that, I’m glad it wasn’t plane wreckage, or debris from a ship.