[Rick Mullin]

Hi Carl and Deborah,

I'm glad that you like the changes.

Another problem along the lines of clarity has been the lack of an indication that Tattoo Man has left the scene and how he left it. I added the epigraph.

I appreciate you help, folks.

Rick

[John Riley]

I first thought you had dedicated it to Bobby Seale, the Black Panther, and misspelled it. Then I found out it was dedicated to a Jersey punk rocker. I confess an ignorance of punk rock. I had turned to jazz before punk took off and mostly missed it.

I assume he's the tattoo man? Has someone else mentioned this? I didn't read all the comments. Are the events things that happened around him? But that leaves out the black man. I didn't mean to be caught up in clue-hunting but it felt necessary to start appreciating the poem.

I'm still reading.

[Rick Mullin]

Ugh. Bobby Steele, this one, was not a punk rocker. He was a man who showed up in my town tattooed from head to foot. I see there is another Bobby Steele. Maybe the epigraph is a bad move. My initial title was Death of Tattoo Man... I didn't like it, because it's not about his death per se.

I kind of hate when the Googling gets in the way of experiencing the poem. I think the simple answer is to change the epigraph to In Memoriam, which I have done.

Given my record on spelling, your initial thought was not a bad one, John ~,:^)

[Carl Copeland]

Rick, I think “In Memoriam” is brilliant, inviting us to sympathize with Tattoo Man right from the start. There’s still plenty I don’t get in the poem, but the titular character and how he was mistreated have come into focus for me.

[Mark McDonnell]

Hi Rick,

Yes, we have the Rotary Club. Like the Mason's. It was the potluck dinner I wasn't 100% on.

The new stanza makes it clear (of course) that the man is actually covered in tattoos. Despite the title, I wasn't getting that the first time around. I thought the title referred to Melville's character and that the guy in the poem was a kind of metaphorical Queequeg, but not necessarily literally tattooed. I pictured a black guy, first because of the harassment he was getting and also because the hint at a contrast in the subsequent line "Now your white Republican enclave shimmers" seemed to suggest it. And for what it's worth, I never saw him as anything but put-upon. Sometimes a pomegranate etc...

I like the new stanza and the simple epigraph. It brings it together for me. The added clarity isn't spelling things out, it's all still a pretty wild ride. And I like the new S2 adonic. A stage direction. Like Enter Patty Valentine (him again!)

I like the poem a lot, Rick.

(And now I've seen Tattoo Man, of course. Safe passage, fella.)

[Carl Copeland]

Since this is the Deep End, I’ll spell out what I still don’t get—without expecting you to clarify anything in the poem or even explain it here—just so you’ll know:

dollar sign notebooks—These, you say, are “perhaps notebooks that amount to accounting ledgers.” You seem almost as unsure as I am.

doling infinite cowboy—You’ve explained “infinite cowboy,” but what does it mean to “dole” (measure out portions of) cowboy? You also call this “a moment at which I am rolling with a kind of wannabeat® Sapphics.” It sounds as if you had a space to fill and took the first metrical words that came to your head. That’s backed up by the reference to Kerouac, who is known (exaggeratedly, I’ve heard) for his stream-of-thought spontaneity.

a peculiar shade of prodigal lodger—The tattoos show that their lodger (the man who wears them) has been rashly extravagant (by getting the tattoos?). Farfetched, but it’s the best I’ve come up with.

stack the tray for tickets to the Teenage Patrolman’s Breakfast—You explained “trick the tray” as a reference to “Tricky Tray,” something I unsurprisingly haven’t heard of, so that didn’t get me very far, and with “stack the tray” I’m back to square one. The teenage patrolmen, you say, “are meant to harken back a bit to Pinewood Derbies, I guess.” Again, you seem unsure, and I see little connection between patrolmen and Cub Scout miniature car racing. Do they race cars over breakfast?

The impression I get from some of your explanations is that you write quickly and spontaneously, trusting your unconscious to take care of the details. I suspect that great work has been done that way, but it’s so alien to my fussy, plodding approach that you’ll forgive me if I’m sometimes uncomprehending.

BTW, you might consider making “the pomegranate” either indefinite or plural. “The pomegranate” seems to be either one we’ve already heard of (but haven’t) or an abstract pomegranate, asking for metaphorical readings.

[Rick Mullin]

Hi Mark,

Thanks for checking back. Yes, I was letting the title carry too much weight. I'm glad the extra stanza and rewritten lines work for you.

As I mentioned, I didn't really mind our original reading. I like a suggestion of racial bigotry here, though I may have eradicated it with the rewrite... Glad you like the poem.

Hi Carl,

Thanks for all your input and feedback. I don't want to keep explaining things or giving "my reading." It would be impossible to know what you would think of this poem seeing for the first time it in its revised state, but I get that you're OK with the residual elements of uncertainty that I think are the bare minimum necessary. I am assuming at this point that I will not be clawing this back to its original. Thanks again for all your help.

Rick

[Mary Meriam]

I never thought I'd see jazzy Sapphics. Amazing.
For me, the last line:
Aren’t we happy.
is the emotional heart of the poem. I like it with the period and not a question mark.

[Rick Mullin]

Thanks Mary,

I hadn't thought jazzy. More Beat [doling infinite cowboy]. But I guess Beat is jazzy. In either case, not my intent, but I like the effect. Glad you do.

I guess that last line solidifies the tone of the narrator's "J'accuse", which is spelled out at the beginning of stanza V: "You’ll recall. You called the police, remember?" I must say that I like the chirality of that line.

Thanks again,
Rick

[Deborah J. Shore]

Although I still wouldn't know what is happening in the final stanza and do find dollar sign notebooks odd and unclear, as Carl does, I feel like I'm very much along for the ride now that you've made your changes, Rick. As someone who's an unlikely candidate for ever being called edgy or hip and who tends to work with lyrical subtleties, I'm envious that you've pulled off this voice in sapphics.