Editing Experiment: Street Sounds v3
January 24, 2010 § 7 Comments
I’ve gone back in for additional revision: I focused on using stronger, clearer words, cutting unneeded language, and did some reformatting. I read it out loud, and still like the title.
This is the third version, the first draft is here and the second here. Next time, I’ll hit Sonya’s 5 Strategies for Taking Your Writing from Draft to Poem.
I like the results, although I don’t like not putting my efforts out immediately. I guess I’m an immediate gratification kind of person. Yea, that’s always been my downfall, so this is a good way to work on that.
Comments, snide or otherwise, are welcome. :-)
Street Sounds v3 ______________________________________
She strides in torn hose and high heels, and teeters slightly down the chilly urban street.
Morning traffic slows for lights; walkers swerve to avoid her wildly waving arms.
I watch her ashy fingers forming shapes as I pass by – American Sign or gibberish,
I cannot tell. What does she hear as she speaks in her own silence?
Is she threatening herself or me? Answering her bitter internal voices?
I believe hopeless hearts survive by sharing.
I believe the lost are rescued by communion and wither with seclusion.
I imagine her first home:
Two parents, one deaf, one not. Maybe both could hear.
Soon they learn her world – her finger-speak – and they take care to curb
their sounds so she doesn’t feel alone. And then one day her signs turn sour.
She speaks, but not to them — she signs to someone they cannot see.
They try to force her eyes so she can read their love, but she squeezes them shut,
so they cannot make her hear. Now she spends her days in a double-bubble wrap
of deafness and psychosis. Her soundless world protects her reality –
when she closes her eyes, no one can join her.
Her street sounds are only heard by me.
Geez, there are a lot of “I” sentences visually in the first stanza, aren’t there? Well, next time I’ll work on that.