[Siham Karami]

John,
I think what the form does is focus the reader on each word, a fascinating technique in a way, which distinguishes this poem from many others. Thus you make us more hyper-aware of the “she” and it adds a sense of “incremental-ness,” of time being slowed down into separate moments, as if she’s afraid to continue yet also feels it’s somehow pre-ordained. It gives me a strange feeling of something timeless caught in time. If you change the form, you’re left with just a standard-issue poem whereas here is something I can’t even name.

Forgot to mention the title is very apt for this form and well-chosen. It reminds me of the definition of a fractal: its interior is finite but its edges or “outline” is infinite.

[W T Clark]

It's a good atom. Either it has to be short lines or prose.

Hope this helps.

[Mark McDonnell]

Hi John,

I do think that David might be right, that these lines might be a little too weightless in the poem's overall architecture, and they make up over a third of the poem:

she knows
when
she turns
to return
down
the beach
she will
stop
to stand
beneath

I wonder if there's something you could do there. Overall, I like the feeling and I like the short lines.

Mark

[John Riley]

I can't argue with you, Mark. Thanks.