I was looking for a clue
To prove it was really you.
It was disappointing that your gestures
Your conversation, your worries
Were all ordinary.

My loves and dreams had come due.
I was looking for some little clue
But I saw in how you moved your hands,
Your conversation, your stories
Only ordinary worry.

My loves are actually few.
I hoped it was really you;
You spoke to me, and that was really good,
But in your smile I didn’t see genius or love that understood
My sad hurry.

I was looking for some little clue
To prove it was really you,
Or God, God, too,
To prove it was really you.


  1. Blah Blah Blah said,

    June 11, 2010 at 6:56 pm

    This is more like it Tom. You start well. The first stanza can stand up as poetry on its own two feet, because the worries/ordinary slant-rhyme is deftly wrought.

    The second stanza is weaker but just over the line.

    The third is where it starts dissolving into prose masquarading as rhyme, and betraying your fundamentally flawed, june/moon philosophy that full rhyme = poetry.

    The final stanza is woefully lazy, four full rhymes in quick succession that are as predictable as they are stressed.

    You wrote it straight off the bat, knocked out in two minutes; and it shows. As a bit of spontaenous prose failing to imitate poetry, it works; but as a poem, it is clearly not successful.

    Saying that; it does begin as the real thing, and a third of it stands up well.

    but you’re still in the woods, going for the lazy rhyme

  2. thomasbrady said,

    June 11, 2010 at 8:09 pm

    I like the way “sad hurry” conveys a whole character, a whole state of mind…

    Don’t you feel the banal interacting so delicately with longing in this poem?

    I think it’s a minor masterpiece, much better than anything Mr. Carlos Williams has done…

    Think of these poems as light opera interludes…

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