what does the primal clawing have to do with the street lamp's light? can you please make a nice neat package out of this one?

freshly said, but feels unfinished

L1 &L2--you don't need both 'by myself' and 'solitary'.
L4: change to 'as days fluttered past'

i believe that's what p&k and h8 are suggesting, and i agree.

give me something i can hold on to

awww...

i would like to see more basketball argot in this poem. i want you to name sports stuff, and with each slamdunk, or 3pointshot, or whatever--you erase a little bit more of the weight of the anger. balance the scales of action and reaction. you dig?

this is a phenomenal image:
And what was control would fall
Like mercury to the ground

but, i hate this line:
I am a simple gal bringing on a testy madness

it's out of character with the rest of the poem, i think. there are a couple of other places where the unevenness shows as well. you create magnificent visuals, and then throw in some homespun, and it loses its magic. see what i mean, mrs.g?

so, very, many, commas, interrupt, the, flow, of, this, and, make, it feel, like, a, list, poem.

and it is not. it's a nicely concocted metaphor for pain--although the maggots are a bit of a stretch: freshly spurting blood does not maggots produce--they imple a length of time has passed, which it clearly has not, because the action of this poem happens in an instant. also, i take issue with her 'spitting' out the words. wouldn't she be treacly-sweet, just to twist the blade a little deeper?
with some minor refinements, this could be superb.

Artist: Kendra Smith Album: Five Ways of Disappearing Song: Valley of the morning sunhttp://www.lyrics.jp/lyrics/K000700010009.asp

i'm on the fence here, because i believe in what you are saying, but i don't know that it work in this form. i believe that animals are sentient, and suffer. i believe that factory farming dehumanizes us, as much as it disregards the value of life. i see the yellow-crated chicken trucks going by, full and unsheltered at 75 mph in this cold, and i realize that this is not considered unkind. i look around a little--do some reading, and i become a vegetarian for a few years. i lapse, and justify it as 'acknowledging that i am part of the food chain.' and i used to be against hunting. now, i feel like it's the most humane way to get meat. i just don't like to think about it. no one does. but there must be a way to be what i am without contributing to the suffering. please tell me there is.
there is, isn't there?

S1: L5--del. 'much' L12--'nor' becomes 'no'

S2: would there be tweeds among the matrons? a fleeting favorite, perhaps, but so unchic!

S3: L12--virtuoso of the bon mot? champion, connoisseur? 'regnat o'er bon mots'?
L13--'and careless elegance' (del. 'a')

S4: L4 'marks' (-ing)

minor, petty stuff.
very emphatically done. esp. like the multi-entendre of the last line. rock on, dewd.

i like the orignal better too.

merry christmas to yoooo!

and joe strummer's dead, so there's no more rockin' the casbah.

fuckit. merry jihad, h.
xo, z

i've got this terrible feeling of deja vu...

well done, mockingbird.

you have a yeast infection, and PMS. see your local chemist for some OTC relief. everyone will thank you.

typos tiepoes ti-poas

better still. but a falcon and a fog? they are at different metaphorical ends of the spectrum. did you mean to do that?

i know about the waiting for that light. if p&k is mr winter for the mountains, then i am mrs for clinging desperately to the shortening nights, until the land is greened. this is a poem about hope and despair, in the simplest of metaphors: light and dark.

i think you should end it like this:
sit on my face so i can lick, bitch.

good thing he didn't take your womb too. then you'd be in serious shit.