/lit/ - Literature

>>7198165
The third stanza does not flow with the meter well, coming off short for most of the lines. The poem's diction is to me a little grandiose but that's more personal preference.
It needs polish, but the concept is sound and the execution is fine. I would enjoy attending a reading.

An excerpt from my own experimental short story:

Chris split on a gurney, moving down the lines of a web of electro-acoustic fidelity tests green light after green light with the pads on the tires jarring the pad that held him out of place, vomited into the massive overhang of the fortress on the hill Providence Medical Center. On rails coasting, lines led through his bleeding body greased bed let to pall through holes T-intersections trapdoors with buttons for the handicapped, elevators, breaking all as forces unchallenged pull Abricomb into corners in hurried voices with fading qualities pulling Houdini's tricks as Chris in the milk can is drinking for thirst, locks on the exterior unnoticed as he receives all he can hold like a capsized vessel.

The small echoes of the wheel's squeaks are the clearest sounds, reflecting off of each other, the walls and assumable the cart but Chris has no real way to tell checking himself for any possible written notes that could dictate the situation. Surrounding him in a cloud is voice, coagulated, clotted into a form that keeps information from flowing Chris isn't sharp enough now to pull it apart, gather clues, it sticks and holds firm along his body and he is too weak to pick the scab. The voice trails behind the cart serving as its drag chute pulling the dive left and right to hit a destroyer, the rest black as night, who knows. The plants in the corner of the room seem real but aren't, the carpet is burgundy via pink, the nurse is lost, guess she's new to the organization or other jargon phrasing, technical excuses, Chris was fixed but not returned, he was unaware, he feigns sleep, along paste corridors and numerous wings pushed and pushed with a triumphant sigh the nurse gently lays the cart to rest in room 482. It took well past her break. The windowless shithole conspired against her some.