wet cement

This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 36,500 poems.

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Wet cement works for me.

...in your damp cement would be considered impertinent.

You have a remarkable talent for arresting images, particularly in very brief poems. This one, however, almost seems like two different poems—or proto-poems—to me. S2 and S3 seem to go together, but S1 seems separate. Sometimes divergent images work very well, but here, especially given your title, they seem disjunctive to me. But I am no genius.

Specifics:

--"flowers" in S1 should perhaps be "flower's"

--Should S2 end with a period? I'm not entirely sure whether you want to treat S3 as a continuation of the sentence, but it seems to me some kind of punctuation should be here, given that you are using it elsewhere.

As usual, very interesting work. Thanks.

I liked the imagery in your poem but am a tad confused. Is the image of wet concrete symbolic of love? I read it like that. The last stanza which seemed to signify your nervousness seemed to add to my interpretation, we are all a little nervous (and excited!) when it comes to something like love (and sex, lol)

A fiver if only for these lines.

"my body is full of violins, trumpets, flutes

and in the pit of my stomach,

I can feel the vibrations of an orchestra. "

So much better than "butterflies".

Tess