Give me feedback you cowards!
I wrote this a little before the climate dread actually got me. Didn’t touch it for a while and did some editing over the past day.
I don’t like that the poem feels hopelesness, I don’t want to sell hopelessness in hopeless times. I eventually recovered from the episode so there is a semi hopeful ending there. I just don’t know what to write.
Please tell me what you like, dislike or how it made you feel
It resonates with me, sitting here with my cat and my air-conditioning in the 100F (38C) of mid-September, mainlining news of the apocalypse in between small chores and the relentless job hunt. There’s a lot of bad shit going on that I can’t control, and if I let it get too close it will paralyze me with its venom.
The first person (and consequently the second person) is a little hard to parse. In the first section (reading left column to right column) it is the person being stalked by the specter, at the start of the second section it switches to (I guess) the specter itself, then in the third and fourth sections it’s both. Maybe a commentary on how we’re doing this to ourselves but I found myself taken out of the work to try and figure out who was saying what.
Not sure what the guild is in this context, it seems to come in from nowhere. Is the specter the guild? Or are they two different things, in which case, why is the guild helping the specter?
How did it make me feel: It made me feel less alone in the mountain climb we are all midway through, on our respective edges of the internet. Thanks for sharing ❤️
Oh btw, the bold lines were supposed to be the specter.
Ah, I get it. I thought they were section titles, and the poem was arranged in a 2x2 grid of subpoems.
Thanks for the feedback. I felt so bad after writing it. I considered not publishing it because I don’t want to make other people feel hopeless so I’m glad that it made you feel less lonely.
I will reread it tomorrow and see if I can workshop the perspective a bit. The guild was supposed to be guilt, but I already changed that.
Yeah, I feel the pressure to not be a downer poet too. But I think unpleasant feelings are a natural reaction to unpleasant things, and the world is going through some real fuckin… unpleasantness right now. I think it’s cathartic.
Four bold lines kinda looks like four panels… first line is worry, second line is getting closer…. someone seeing someone else in the third… dead person in the last panel…
Is this loss?



