Along the River

[George W. Byers]

along the secret banks,
throes of gathering dusk
bold shimmering cold spray
and warm sunlight on skin,
musk of slick rock and moss,
algae, Aspen and sky,
the enemy is distant,
he is as untouchable.


in the hot dry distance,
dead, 
mercifully distant phantoms,

fatherless motherless hatreds,

pool in rubble, fester, simply endure. 

screaming bewildered onlookers 

stand beside the river,

dissolve into indignation
at 
the ingratitude of it all.

but it’s water in any event:

foul true humbling thirst inexorably triumphant.

sackcloth mourning, barren husk 
of prayer not withstanding, 

so present and touchable here
in the
 unrelenting tangle of grasping hunger. 

relentless, ageless predestined 

dissonances coursing downstream, 

mere endurance will not suffice.

[Chris Wong Sick Hong]

"mere endurance will not suffice" -- nice

I'm not sure how to feel about the piling on of adjectives. They go against what I've been taught, but they do keep the piece from falling into monorhythm. The extra shades of meaning may not be necessary--I feel an odd tension between a tone of barrenness and the profusion of words.

What style are you aiming for in this piece?

[George W. Byers]

Thanks for your comments, Chris. The "style" objective here was in allowing the words to rush as the coursing river might; so that the form and the content had some intersection, some commonality.

Another point here is that often overlooked issue of how the piece reads on the page, as opposed to how the piece reads aloud. When I read it aloud, the torrent of adjectives becomes even more like the river itself. Which is what I wanted.

I hope that speaks to your point. Again, thanks for your comments.

[Chris Wong Sick Hong]

I can hear that--along the lines of sound first, literal meaning second.

If that's what you wanted, far be it for me to suggest otherwise :-) (I guess the tension I mentioned was intentional)

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