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fernknits — 002. Complicated -- Disorder (Food Porn Poem)
#candy #eating #eatingdisorder #hunger #nostalgia
Published: 2014-10-03 08:36:15 +0000 UTC; Views: 252; Favourites: 5; Downloads: 0
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I.I had dreams of finding myself
standing in a candy store
with one cent to spend, only one and maybe ten
thousand thousand types of confection -- this was back
when a penny would buy you
a handful of a sweet.
I read stories of the past
where that really happened --
to near-real girls, struggling to choose
which pushcart vendor would get
their allowance pennies: judging the earnest
sing-song-singing, their hands slapping
their biceps against November's rime --
to the ravished eyes
of a near-real boy: chapped fingers,
worn from gentling the colt
in the barnyard, reaching
all at once for the dishes of jams
and jellies, of fried apples-'n'-onions, helping
themselves to a slice of every pie.
II.
There is something about the manner of this father
I see on television, a cook
treating his young daughters
to pomegranate seeds and their juice,
that captivates and directs me to write
a poem about this whole business.
It complicates the process
that I am not permitted to choose
the penny candy, to taste the pies,
to drink the sanguine fluid. The flesh
is willing but the spirit is weak.
Thirsty and hungry, trapped in a corner
store by the cracker-pickle-pork barrels,
I wait and wait and wait and never sip
or bite or chew a drop or crumb.
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Comments: 2
Thanks for taking the time and effort to provide such thorough feedback -- I am overwhelmed with gratitude! Quite a lot of what you've said resonates quite well with me. I am letting it stew and will go back over it when I'm ready to revise.
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I like the distinction of your very first line, emphasizing the bigger picture.
I think the
"thousand thousand types of confection -- this was back
when a penny would buy you
a handful of a sweet."
is a bit of a mouthful. Perhaps rearranging a bit and saying something like this?
"thousand thousand types of confection
back when a penny would buy you
a handful of a sweet."
I really like the imagery of "their hands slapping their biceps against November's rime" but I'm confused as to who's slapping their biceps-- the near-real girl or the vendor?
And I love the imagery of the near-real boy's "chapped fingers, worn from gentling the colt in the barnyard". It adds a lot of dimension to his character in such a short amount of time.
I think the cook treating his young daughters to pomegranate seeds almost takes away from the poem. The imagery isn't nearly as vivid, and I feel that the thought it takes to transition to the second part brings the reader out of the poem. Granted, the poem is separated into two pieces, and perhaps that's where my bigger problem lies. I think this poem could work really well as a singular piece, granted the last stanza would need some reworking to act as a transition instead of the pomegranate cook. Perhaps you could go into a bit more detail about why you are not permitted to choose the penny candy or the pies? I think it would really add some nice continuity to the poem too if you returned to "finding yourself".
The last four lines are beautiful and poignant, and end the poem on a really solid note. I feel like the reader is allowed to explore their own emotions without feeling that they were coerced into doing so-- the imagery makes it all very vivid and natural. Beautiful work, thank you for sharing!
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