[Erik Olson]

Nemo,

It's been too long since I had the pleasure of reviewing one of your poems. But I'm glad I popped in to catch this one; I enjoyed it very much. Made a few notes.

The narrator tries to remember what 'teased my skin, my scalp', whether it be wind, music, or silence between tracks... His memory and what was is like the roaring of a shell is to the roaring of the ocean, a very apt metaphor.

I appreciate the epithets. 'Cold bone throne' is Gothic and 'tumult of music' is elegant. Also, the realness of 'plastic walkman', yes that too, makes the more elevated notes feel more grounded.

I love how this poem is at once personal and universal. Reading it put me in mind of times when my experience of place was colored by listening to music through earphones and how that coloring faded after a while–‘For night declined to hold such echoes.’

Cheers,
Erik

[R. Nemo Hill]

Thanks, Erik. The poem does seem to be working for most readers, which pleases me since it felt very good to write.

Nemo

[Martin Rocek]

I thought that I was too late to comment, but since it has been brought to the top, let me just say how I love this. I read it aloud and reveled in the sound. The only thing that I might suggest is in part 1 S3L1: I would consider dropping "them" at the end of the line--it would create a little more space.

[R. Nemo Hill]

Thanks, Martin.
That's an interesting idea, dropping them, I will consider it further.

Nemo

[Jan Iwaszkiewicz]

Thank you for the journey Nemo.