Thursday, April 8, 2010

Poem 8: Vocal Solo

Unaccompanied as I am
to public clumping,
I sharpen the caw quill
and sing
I Am Lousy With Midnights:

 ♫ My skin is liquid.
It oozes down the drain,
sings from the traps,
rips through couplings,
spreading rusted lilacs.
I wear fish hooks
and slither the sewer
looking for loopholes
where liquid skin
is the architecture of the world. ♫ 

© 2010 by Kathryn Feigal. All rights reserved. 


  1. Absolutely fantastic Kass. You can write poems that can be enjoyed through earing and taste together.
    These loopholes and liquid skin thrill the tongue.

  2. Dystopian; I imagine the world you create with liquid skin. Washing it off at end of the day only to don another identity. My science fiction mind sees a whole novel here. Steam punk probably. Going the other way from what You Elisabeth and Jim were talking of, the other day. Cool poem Kass

  3. TOMMASO - I do love words! Glad you do too.

    TAG - Steam punk. Hmmm. I like the sound of that.

  4. You know, the first time I commented on your blog, you had posted the pictures of you wearing your liquid skin (do you remember the pictures and the post?) and I thought [and commented] that you were the bravest woman I know. I'd been lurking on your blog for a few days, but that series of images drew my official fan letter, as I recall. Wonderful, gritty poem today!

    WV = picans. I use them to make a wonderful pie from my Granny's recipe.

  5. I see your talent for Redoing the Undone, it seems a nice fit with the steampunk art style. As this poem fits the Steampunk Genre.

  6. LESLIE - I forgot about that. The melty chrome picture was pretty accidentally good. Gritty and somewhat slimy maybe? Why do I obsess about dissolving?

    TAG - Exactly as you were posting your comment, I was checking out that very website from a google search. What an excellent idea - I could combine my reworked objects with Steampunk poetry readings.

  7. I think that would be a fabulous use of your many talents. I just love that steampunk look.

  8. Oh, woman, BELIEVE me I get it about fear of dissolving! Mine isn't about dissolving, per se, but it's still a strong dose of fear of annihilation. I think that is a primal fear. We humans are hardwired for that. Some of us just feel it more intensely. Sometimes when I'm trying to explain how something feels to me, I have to tell the listener, "Look, I know I'm not actually going to die from this, but I FEEL as if life, as I know it, is going to end."

    I'd come to your poetry readings!

    WV - mudnip. Just brought in from the garden and steamed to perfection.

  9. Wow, I am tripping over your words as I read and they form such an amazing image in my mind!

  10. ok, just what other talents do you have hiding somewhere? there is no limit to what you can do! you inspire me to think, not just outside the box, but outside the galaxy!

  11. LESLIE - I was thinking at the reading Mark Strand did how fun it would be to do readings. Of course, I would have to get famous first. Maybe a poetry slam. There's a hip hop rap thing I'm working on and if I get the courage I'll film it and put it here.

    VICKY - I like trippy words. I keep expecting some commenter to say, "Now you've gone and done it - this really stinks," but everyone is too kind.

    STANDING - Don't go too far out. We want you back here.

  12. You've got the courage, Cookie. DO it!

  13. I can't do justice to this poem, I just cannot put into words how good I think it is. I wasn't sure at first, although I knew straight off that I admired it, but with each of several reads its working on me. It is plain fabulous.

  14. Great imagery! I've never thought about dissolving, but I'm interested in all sorts of dysmorphias.

  15. Kass, are you published? You write like my mom once did.....such a command of the English language.

    I adore it.

  16. LESLIE - If daughters are to be trusted, every time I perform the rap to mine, she laughs for all the wrong reasons. It's supposed to be funny, but she can't get over the fact that her old mother is attempting a rap.

    DAVE - Wow, coming from the master, that praise means a lot.

    JULIE - My dysmorphic friend, think about it. I'll be on the other end of the sewer system, reconstitution kit in hand.

    P. J. - I've never had a poem published on paper. Only here. Thank goodness for the blogosphere. Was you mother published?

  17. I can't stop reading this. I love the sounds and 'rusted lilacs' is at once gorgeous and disturbing as an image, as is the whole rest of the poem.


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