Spoons

This is another redo of a poem. Even though I have technically already posted these, editing poetry is something that I am just not learning how to do. Editing poetry is hard – you have to accept that the majority of what you write is going to get thrown out. When you have a final draft, it may only have one or three lines from the original poem. It’s easy for your writing to feel precious – you created it, so, naturally, you’re at least a little attached to the parts that you think are good. So when someone who knows a lot more about poetry tells you to scrap 3/4 of it, it isn’t an easy thing to hear. Plus, you have to know when to stay true to what you think the poem needs to say. Yeah, that person may have more experience writing poetry than you, and you need to be prepared to do away with the majority of the piece, but you also can’t lose the part of yourself that you place into the poem. Anyway, the new title of this poem is Spoons.

Little brothers should be named
johnny or bobby or something
that shows they are small, but will
one day be men.

I keep dreaming of swallowing my brother’s
eyes, spooning them from beneath his lashes
taking them into my throat,
too light to be dealt the job of looking
at things so hard to see.

This is not a scene of violence.
He does not remember having his eyes
and when I take his teeth
he forgets those, too.

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