tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5302863235669928481.post7780720510604269488..comments2012-03-12T21:19:12.372-07:00Comments on Writing in Margins and Coughing in Line: Burly Mendaniel j. taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18358087955310588433noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5302863235669928481.post-31329518659360099492011-12-28T08:21:20.014-08:002011-12-28T08:21:20.014-08:00I like how you start out with "the greatest o...I like how you start out with "the greatest of confidences," in the context of your appreciation for slow-moving waters, your kitchen, and your flowers... then you contrast yourself with those supposed standards of masculinity, but you end where you started, I think: looking down at the water, knowing better, "elevated," not fooled by the deceitful crocodiles who, like the burly men, aren't being completely honest. They may have their strength and their own set of skills, but you seem confident in your ability to see it all from above, so to speak. You even show an appreciation for the wives of the carpenters, relating to their ability to show emotion; but the fact that you're not one of these hairy-chested, straight-liquor-drinking types doesn't seem to be setting you back... though, like me, I'm sure you wish you could do your own carpentry instead of having to pay an arm and a leg to get the job done. You acknowledge regret - perhaps feeling inadequate - but you're still above it all, in your own way.<br /><br />I also like phrases like "waters which are not yet the Atlantic," but I hesitate to compliment for the use of them, for fear that one might tend to overuse them, trying to sound too "deep" or whatever. So I'm glad you only used it once. You've found a way to use accessible modifiers and imagery without sounding amateur or uneducated. This is nice, earthy poetry, for lack of a more earthly term.B. Holdhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00387924418529254170noreply@blogger.com