The Auctioned Moon Outside Your Window

[arnolddavis]

they're selling tickets for the moon tonight
the land is spotted with patterned umbrellas
,tacked in place like an unruly postcard
always blowing off the board in the breeze of the fan.

the line winds down the only road in town
the voices whine down the only road in town
but i was smart baby
i was smart
i bought mines days before

so why so far behind?
why your soul draggin`
like the breasts of a mother of 6 when she ripens to 86

please come along
please, i never won nothin before
what if i win somethin finally
I'll give it to you
I'll give it to you
wrapped in comics and bound by my belt (a poor man's ribbon)
and hung on a sturdy bough outside of your window....

Does it beat the City?
Does it beat the City?
Is her face black and blue broken into the features of a plum?
Will this make you happy love
will this make me happy love?
think of it while i creep upon this radiant sphere
watch you sleep

[jen]

the poem is a little inconsistent; the first stanza is elegant and descriptive and the rest are sort of crude like you were trying to talk in a dialect...and i'm not sure what kind of dialect you were trying to imitate. you know i hate the metaphor about the breasts, haha. i think the repetition sounds forced (probably because i know you hate repetition).

i am also having trouble with your punctuation. the first stanza and the last two lines are in need of some punctuation repairs. however, the nearly lyric other stanzas almost work with inconsistent punctuation. so i'm not sure. i think you should either revamp the whole thing working off of the first stanza or get rid of it completely.

if i'm missing something, let me know. i might not understand it.

now that you are probably thoroughly annoyed with my criticism, i'll take my leave.

[steve]

i'll agree with a good portion of the repetition and the horrible dialect. the last two lines i dn't see need for puntuaction except an 'and' but, you're the editor. thank you.

[arnolddavis]

they're selling tickets for the moon tonight.
the land is spotted with patterned umbrellas,
tacked in place like an unruly postcard
always blowing off the board in the breeze of the fan.

the line winds down the only road in town.
the voices whine down the only road in town.
but i was smart
i bought ours days before.

so why are you so far behind?
your soul dragging
like the breasts of a mother of 6 when she spoils to 84.

please come along.
please, i never won before.
what if i win something finally?
I'll give it to you
I'll give it to you
wrapped in comics and bound by my belt (a poor man's ribbon)
hung on a sturdy bough outside of your window....

Does it beat the City?

Is her face black and blue broken into the features of a plum?
Would this make you happy love?
think of it while i creep upon this radiant sphere and
watch you sleep.





eh?