[Julie Steiner]

DRAFT TWO plus tweaks to L2 and Q2

Colorless green ideas sleep furiously.

I don’t know what I’m looking at. I’ve seen
memorials before. Train stations here
recall the Jews they caused to disappear
when I’m about to board the same machine.

This takes me nowhere, though. A wall of green
glass directs me down to an austere
and claustrophobic courtyard. Lost, I peer
at signage. What’s this place supposed to mean?

“Nine-Eleven.” What? Why here? That’s not
transparent, though this structure’s steel-webbed glass
and giant letter-slot let daylight pass.
The rusty beam they crucify is caught
in time, but cockeyed. 2-D towers rise
to form an open book that mocks my whys.


Memoria e luce: 9/11 Memorial in Padua
Daniel Libeskind (2005)
https://mycornerofitaly.com/9-11-memorial-padua/


L2 was:
memorials for days. Train stations here
L7 was:
and claustrophobic courtyard, where I peer
Q2 was:
This takes me nowhere. A decrescendo of green
glass wall directs me down to an austere
dead end that dwarfs me. Mystified, I peer
at signage. What’s this place supposed to mean?
Before that, LL6-8 were:
glass wall directs me down to an austere,
dead-ended courtyard. Mystified, I peer
around for signage. What does all this mean?


DRAFT ONE

Cenotaph, Padua

I don’t know what I’m looking at. I’ve seen
memorials, of course. Train stations here
recall the Jews they caused to disappear
when I’m about to board the same machine.

This hints mass transit, too: A bus-high, green
glass wall directs me into an austere
but tiny courtyard. Mystified, I peer
for signage. What’s this place supposed to mean?

“Nine-Eleven.” What? Why here? That’s not
transparent to me, though this structure’s glass
efficiently allows the light to pass
around the beam it’s crucifying, caught
diagonally. 2D towers rise
to form an open book that mocks my whys.


Memoria e luce: 9/11 Memorial in Padua
Daniel Libeskind (2005)
https://mycornerofitaly.com/9-11-memorial-padua/

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Julie—

You do an excellent job of communicating the disorientation you experienced, finding this monument in such an unexpected place. You create a syncopation with your enjambments and mid-line sentence breaks that keep the reader moving through the disjointed images your Petrarchan sonnet offers up. The last line is a powerful conclusion. Very impressive work.

Glenn

[Susan McLean]

Julie, I like the way you allow the reader to participate in the mystery. The enjambments are very helpful in keeping the narrative moving and a little off balance. The sense at the end of something unresolved and painful seems right for the subject.

Susan

[Carl Copeland]

I can’t decide whether I like this monument or not, though I’m certainly touched by the sentiment. It seems to be trying to do everything at once: it’s the book held by Lady Liberty, opened in the direction of the statue, with transparent covers mimicking the walls of the World Trade Center and revealing a falling beam inside, all of it becoming a luminous beacon of hope at night. The latitude of New York is somehow “connected to the center of Padua as the vertical hinge of the Book,” and an inscription somehow relates the beam to “Abraham Lincoln’s poor house” in Kentucky. Anyway, Julie, your poem beautifully conveys all this disorienting condensation, as Glenn and Susan have said—a fine example of form expressing content.

[Jim Moonan]

.
The voice conveys a kind of zeitgeist to the milieu that swims through the poem. I think it's great. That's not a critique. That's just me enjoying the way you write.

.

[Paula Fernandez]

Hi Julie--

I was so intrigued by this poem that right away I looked up the picture of the monument you describe. With the picture firmly in mind, everything you said came clear to me. But, for me, I needed the picture. Perhaps my mind's eye needs glasses?

The first quatrain was very powerful all on its own. But the movement to "this hints mass-transit too" somehow lost me. Even more so after seeing the picture. It's being "bus-high" wasn't enough to make the connection.

Then I fell in love with the poem again in the octave which ends beautifully.

[Carl Copeland]

Originally Posted by Paula Fernandez

With the picture firmly in mind, everything you said came clear to me. But, for me, I needed the picture. Perhaps my mind's eye needs glasses?

No, this is an ekphrasis that requires not only the photos but the notes that go with them. Something I should have mentioned earlier is that the proximity of “transparent,” “glass” and “light” is going to make “beam” sound like a beam of light, no matter how illogical that is. I couldn’t make any sense of it until I read the notes.

[Julie Steiner]

Oh, no! It never crossed my mind that "beam" might be taken as light. Very helpful to know. I'll see if I can clarify that. And I'll take a poke at the second quatrain, too.

Thanks, Glenn, Susan, Carl (twice!), Jim, and Paula.

[Max Goodman]

That’s not/transparent to me, though this structure’s glass/efficiently allows the light to pass

strikes me as overly intellectual/explanatory. Revising out "though" might make it less so, allowing readers to put the transparency of the glass together with the non-transparency mentioned. That would be particularly easy for readers if the glass were mentioned first.

FWIW.

[Julie Steiner]

Thanks, Max. I hope Draft Two above does more showing than telling.

The new L5 has not just one, but two, metrical bumps, but I'm going to pretend they are intentional. And there's still the identity rhyme, but it apparently doesn't bother anyone but me.

"Rusty beam" could still mean a beam of light, but I hope the other context helps the reader visualize literal iron oxide.