I was trying to put a name to the form as I enjoyed the way this poem weaved around marriage, pants etc. The repetitions reminded me of something, so when I read this was a sestina I read your poem again to see how you'd handled it. The breaking of the sextains works very well I think, and the rep's, for the most part, were inobtrusive. I don't see that as a problem as the restraints are so difficult to manage. Anyway, I'd have thought the use of the frequently appearing end of line words was all part of the fun. I wasn't put off by the reappearance of certain words, more that I was impressed by your skill with this form. I'm no judge btw.
I didn't pick up on the mother getting herself back into shape after the baby was born. However, forewarned is forearmed and so with the benefit of that knowledge I read your poem again. Some thoughts for your perusal:
brianedwards wrote:The art of packing for a trip
is an apt metaphor for marriage, ...And a good one.
she thinks, rolling up his pants
into pocket-sized canisters of fun: ... I think I know what the 'canisters' are and 'fun' made me wonder what these 'canisters of fun' were.
it's simply the negotiation of space,
manipulating objects into shape,
much like she got herself back into shape ...Ok, she's back in shape. At this point I'm convinced you'll provide a clue as I read on. Still interested.
to quickstep wires she'd seen trip
other wives. Apparently, in space ...Another clue with 'other wives' ?
no-one hears you scream: ditto marriage. ...Is there a reason for the "Alien" quote? 'Scream' seems out of place, and I'm still not sure what's happening.
Packing demands you find fun
and funny origami in men's pants; ...very good.
moreover your man's pants,
a man whose out-of-shape
carcass suffers so much fun
on weekend business trips
that all else is the grind of marriage. ...Brought a smile. Is there a growing dissatisfaction?
Ha! Did he regularly go to outer space?
Maybe. They had, after all, exhausted all space
between silence and his pants'
denial of the sanctity of marriage, ...I'm getting a heavy dose of infidelity.
(his undies believed their natural shape
was squat and flat, a trap to trip
the foolish inhabitant seeking fun
in all the places where fun
shouldn't be) so perhaps space
would be ideal for a trip ...clever lines and amusing.
for one: one man, one pair of pants,
crumpled and out of shape
both pants and man. And the marriage? ...Her mind could be elsewhere.
Don't talk to her about marriage
when her mind's fixed on the fun
she'll have in her newly-forged shape. ...Hints again at infidelity.
She'll give him space,
fold and pack his pants
and send him on his final trip. ...There is a certain finality to 'final'.
An idea of marriage now takes shape
in the space she's saved between pants
and talk of trips: yes, it's time to have fun. ...This appears to refer to the wife's determination to rekindle her physical relationship with her hubby. Perhaps she has extramarital plans of her own. Maybe neither of the above. Interesting.
Well, I enjoyed this poem and marvelled at the subtle repetitions and how they acted as a pivot for the entire sestina. Yes, it's their job but I still admired the effort it takes. Quite the inspiring piece, Brian.
I'm busy with my first sestina. You've only yourself to blame.
Best
JJ
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