Z-boot

[bodkin]

Z-boot


We are so deep that all I hear
is clockwork stress
and griping of the outer hull:
the plates and rivets age at different rates,
the push of time so pressing in
upon our moment here and now;
whatever now may mean. Do not think
of that, thoughts won't aid our survival;
if we are still an us? I'm wading
through the Lieutenant here
although there's so much blood I wonder...
Don't think of that. Situation assessment
do not say fucked instead the check-list.
Engine: good, great lump of clock-springs
it is, but ticking. Hull: I'm alive...
Air: see above. Position: unknown,
shrapnel smashed the gauge but needles
jammed on end stops. I guess,
we're falling-free in deepest time.
Chronology-proof hatch: locked:
red-flags in the status window,
its local clock is spinning off the scale.
How can a simple metal gangway
be fifty years ago? Let's assume
it's that way round. Now can I get the bridge
on the blower. Hallo... hallo... Kapitän?
Nothing. Hallo? Well maybe this is good.
The Lieutenant told me, late on watch,
he'd seen the belfry of the Z-16
five thousand years beneath us
a skeleton in a Captain's cap
still standing at the wheel. Don't think of that.
Let's open the marine quarters hatch.
Ah... Let's just close that then. I think
I'll just sit down. I think
I'll wait a while.

[k-j]

I like it - an out of control time-sub spiraling down the z-axis? - but maybe the kind of scenario better suited to prose than poetry. I mean it's such an sfnal situation that just giving us a snapshot in a poem leaves out so much.

"Aid our survival" seems a slightly unnatural turn of phrase?

Love "wading through the lieutenant". Overall well-paced and good rhythm.

[Antcliff]

Gloriously zany. Might be one of my favourites of yours.

Maybe I'd like more of a sense of where N is in the sub and why? I know the larger position is unknown, but on the sub? Maybe.

As K-J notes, a malfunctioning time submarine. At least that is what I got.

Is there an extra "are" in ln.9?

[elotrooso]

And maybe an invisible "n" in

red-flags in the status widow...?

Or is there a bereaved person hanging about on the sub?

[bodkin]

Is there an extra "are" in ln.9?

Oh yes, will fix...

[bodkin]

And maybe an invisible "n" in

red-flags in the status widow...?

Or is there a bereaved person hanging about on the sub?

Doh! Will fix also...

[bodkin]

Gloriously zany. Might be one of my favourites of yours.

Thanks!

Maybe I'd like more of a sense of where N is in the sub and why? I know the larger position is unknown, but on the sub? Maybe.

As K-J notes, a malfunctioning time submarine. At least that is what I got.

So I didn't want to get too detailed in having to design the whole submarine. I obviously too the U-boat as my guide, and then I added a clock-tower/belfry on the top because that was how it struck me.

So I picture this guy is at some intermediate position, back towards the engines, maybe he's in an auxiliary control room for the engines and he's got the door on one side of him (probably forwards) safety-locked, but some access in the other direction, which is where the marine quarters are.

However, a U-boat is pretty tiny. I think this would have to be a bit bigger...

Ian

[Arian]

k-j's not the only one to admire 'wading through the lieutenant'. Excellent.

But the whole thing's good. The U-boat connection came across to me very clearly.

Wasn't convinced by the 'ha ha' - hysteria? Irony? Can't see that the piece is the worse of by losing it.

Good stuff
Cheers
Peter

[bodkin]

k-j's not the only one to admire 'wading through the lieutenant'. Excellent.

But the whole thing's good. The U-boat connection came across to me very clearly.

Wasn't convinced by the 'ha ha' - hysteria? Irony? Can't see that the piece is the worse of by losing it.

Good stuff
Cheers
Peter

Glad it's working overall, Peter. I was a little worried it was too much only my sort of thing...

For the "ha ha" yes, I'm attempting irony. I guess I'm imagining for time-travellers it becomes an impossibly vague term. Or maybe even a technical term with such a specific meeting that they wince every time a civilian says it. (Like me hearing people say "energy" when they mean "positive emotion"...)

If it is just a distraction I could simply drop that with no negative consequences...

Thanks!

Ian

[bodkin]

I've corrected the typos, added a question mark after "if we are still an us?"

I've also, after dithering each way, removed the "ha ha" but am not quite 100% on that yet.

Ian

[David]

It's got a great authentic sci-fi feel, and bringing time into the equation seems inspired.

Is that an umlaut in Kapitän? That's quite baffling.

So, great, but I think the ending's a bit bathetic at the moment. Just those last three lines. I think you need to find a way to end triumphantly in some pyrotechnic use of the space / time idea.

Cheers

David

[bodkin]

I quite like the bathos.

I was, a bit earlier thinking this could go further, but to my mind that cannot happen in this piece, it would have to be a follow on poem where things turned out less final than they seemed...

I got kapitan from google translate, I assumed it was correct...

Thanks David,

Ian

[stuartryder]

Z-boot


We are so deep that all I hear
is clockwork stress
and griping of the outer hull:
the plates and rivets age at different rates,
the push of time so pressing in
upon our moment here and now;
whatever now may mean. Do not think
of that, thoughts won't aid our survival;
if we are still an us? I'm wading
through the Lieutenant here
although there's so much blood I wonder...
Don't think of that. Situation assessment
do not say fucked instead the check-list.
Engine: good, great lump of clock-springs
it is, but ticking. Hull: I'm alive...
Air: see above. Position: unknown,
shrapnel smashed the gauge but needles
jammed on end stops. I guess,
we're falling-free in deepest time.
Chronology-proof hatch: locked:
red-flags in the status window,
its local clock is spinning off the scale.
How can a simple metal gangway
be fifty years ago? Let's assume
it's that way round. Now can I get the bridge
on the blower. Hallo... hallo... Kapitän?
Nothing. Hallo? Well maybe this is good.
The Lieutenant told me, late on watch,
he'd seen the belfry of the Z-16
five thousand years beneath us
a skeleton in a Captain's cap
still standing at the wheel. Don't think of that.
Let's open the marine quarters hatch.
Ah... Let's just close that then. I think
I'll just sit down. I think
I'll wait a while.

Hello Bodkin - I'm not sure i've ever critted a piece of yours before, although I've read quite a few.

Haven't got much to offer on this other than that I read it out loud in an operatic kind of way and it worked well. On the page I would have broken it up a bit, maybe punctuated the stanzas as well (eg * between each one or numbered or whatever) but that's only because I like to break up the delivery a bit.

Nice work
Stuart

[Ros]

Have I recorded that I like this? No. Well, I like it.

Hull: I'm alive...

made me think the hull itself was alive, but I read too much sf...

Ros

[bodkin]

Have I recorded that I like this? No. Well, I like it.

Hull: I'm alive...

made me think the hull itself was alive, but I read too much sf...

Ros

Other people have also thought that. One read it as the protag was in part also the submarine. I don't mind...

Thanks!

Ian

[bodkin]

Thanks Stuart!

Often I do break things up as you say, but for this one there's no break in the action... It's continuous from the [presumed] moment when the protag recovers from the disaster enough to start wondering where they are, up to him having "a rest"...

So for me, at least, it's right that the poem also not be split up. But not a major disagreement, I think.

Otherwise thanks!

Ian

[Firebird]

Z-boot


We are so deep that all I hear
is clockwork stress
and griping of the outer hull:
the plates and rivets age at different rates,
the push of time so pressing in
upon our moment here and now;

I love these first six lines. Fantastic opening.


whatever now may mean. Do not think
of that, thoughts won't aid our survival;
if we are still an us? I'm wading
through the Lieutenant here
although there's so much blood I wonder...
Don't think of that. Situation assessment
do not say fucked instead the check-list.
Engine: good, great lump of clock-springs
it is, but ticking. Hull: I'm alive...
Air: see above. Position: unknown,
shrapnel smashed the gauge but needles
jammed on end stops. I guess,
we're falling-free in deepest time.
Chronology-proof hatch: locked:
red-flags in the status window,
its local clock is spinning off the scale.
How can a simple metal gangway
be fifty years ago? Let's assume
it's that way round. Now can I get the bridge
on the blower. Hallo... hallo... Kapitän?
Nothing. Hallo? Well maybe this is good.
The Lieutenant told me, late on watch,
he'd seen the belfry of the Z-16
five thousand years beneath us
a skeleton in a Captain's cap
still standing at the wheel. Don't think of that.
Let's open the marine quarters hatch.
Ah... Let's just close that then. I think
I'll just sit down. I think
I'll wait a while.

I like the bathos at the end. Not a problem for me. The poem has great rhythm, too. But got to say, I think that the outstanding part of this poem is its first six lines.

Thanks for a gripping read.

Cheers,

Tristan