The Dogs - Revision II***, formerly entitled "Overheard at Denny's Bar" Options

[Luce]

The Dogs - Revision II

Billy got four large dogs. Hard to believe but there you are or rather there they were.
All hair and muscle with goliath paws jumping like baby goats in the air. All over the lawn
and all over Billy they were and him beaming, as if he just became King of England.
He was never rich and none too smart, still living in the house after his ma died,
still working at the Texaco.

Who knows when he got them? Who really cares? His neighbors would rather shake
their heads in disapproval and point to the growing brown spots on his lawn. Yes,
he was known to feed a stray or two or three but his ma would put a spot to that foolishness
and call the county for pickup.

Now in the cool of the evening I see Billy playing with his dogs. His grease creased hand throwing
a ball, first to one and then to the other, each dog receiving his bit of unyielding acceptance.
The dogs running, jumping, jostling each other and Billy, till they knock him down on the grass. And there he stays laughing, like a child playing in the sunlight, his clothes and face full of hair, wet licks… and love.

The Dogs - Revision

Billy got four large dogs. Hard to believe but there you are or rather there they were. The dogs, just hair and muscle with goliath paws, jumping like baby goats. They were all over the lawn and all over Billy and him beaming as if he just inherited England. He was never smart and none to rich, still living in the house after his ma died, still working at the gas station.

Nobody knows when he got them. He’s not saying, as if his neighbors would stoop to listen. They’d rather nod their heads in disapproval, say tsk, tsk, all served with their morning muffin. Yes, he was known to feed a dog or two or three. But his ma would put a stop to it, called the county for pickup.

Now in the cool of the evening I see Billy playing with his dogs. His grease creased hand throwing the ball, first to one and then to another, each dog getting his share of undying acceptance. The dogs running, jumping, jostling each other and Billy, till they knock him down on the grass. And there he stays laughing, like a child playing in the sunlight, his clothes and face full of hair, wet licks… and love.

Luce

P.S. This is not a strict prose poem but a very loose one. It's unmetered and the syllabic count is not fixed. This is why I posted the poem in the FV section.

Overheard at Denny's Bar - Original

Billy got four large dogs.

What? Noooo. You don’t say.

I do say. Billy got four dogs.

But he’s not working. What’s he thinking?

Pinky.

What?

Pinky. That was her name.

Is that one of the dogs?

Hell no! There ain’t no fog.
She died in 83’.

Lee, your hearing aid conked out again? Can you hear me?
And who the hell is Pinky?

You know the sea has never appealed to me Ned.
it always smelled like pee.

Lee, I think it's time to get some eats
You’re in some sort of freakin bog.

You know dogs have always liked me.
and I, in turn, like them. I had three.
And oh! Did you know?

Billy got four large dogs.


Luce

[Critter]

Hi Luce

This keeps one off balance. At first the reader thinks this is a type of "found" poem or a true slice of reality. Then there is suspicion that there is a mental condition at play, then maybe a comedy routine... I really think that this poem accomplishes something (although I can't put it in words) but at the same time I think many readers will fail to fully engage with it. The one thing that really lost me was the sea smelling like pee...for a number of reasons... The poem works on some levels I think but to me it does not seem to be a 'unit'.

[greenwich]

Hi Luce
The poem is trying to regale friendliness and play on a hearing difficulty, but this has a sub theme, suggesting some unknown mental impairment , or previous interaction, in which the overheard conversant is needling the man ie responses Pinky and sea smelling .

[Luce]

Thanks Joe and Anthony for reading this mess of a poem.

Joe - From your comments I failed in the execution and intent. It was suppose to keep you off balance - like poor Ned" but in a good way, in an Abbott & Costello ""Whose on First" way.

You're right when you say the intent is not clear. Is it comedic, tragic? What? In addition, the "pee" line may be too much for readers and put them off.

Anthony - Thanks for the gentle and understanding crit. You definitely got the mixed intent but I think you're a lot more patient, forgiving and a deeper reader than most readers would be.

Okay. I'm scraping this version completely. It's something I seldom do but it happens. It's not worth the effort to save. It's a joke gone "south". I am posting a totally new version.

Don't know why but sometimes I post a poem and then find that's not what I really wanted to say in the first place. It's like peeling an onion sometimes. I talk about it superficially to avoid the deeper things I wanted to say.

So here comes the new version.

Luce

[Psyche]

Hi Luce,
I came back to read and comment on your Original, but now find you've dispatched it yourself!
I'd rather liked it, with just a few minor nits. What do I do? I understood it to be a conversation between a person whose hearing-aid wasn't working, and a friend who was being patient but finally became exasperated.
The person with the hearing-aid may also have had slight mental troubles. I've seen elderly people who couldn't deal with their aids, or even with their false teeth! LOL...

Your new narrative is fun. Good work. But I suggest you present it as a poem, with the lines separated in some poetical way. It looks more like a short story now.

Must rush off now.
Syl

The Dogs - Revision

Billy got four large dogs. Hard to believe but there you are or rather there they were. The dogs, just hair and muscle with goliath paws, jumping like baby goats. They were all over the lawn and all over Billy and him beaming as if he just inherited England. He was never smart and none to rich, still living in the house after his ma died, still working at the gas station.

Nobody knows when he got them. He’s not saying, as if his neighbors would stoop to listen. They’d rather nod their heads in disapproval, say tsk, tsk, all served with their morning muffin. Yes, he was known to feed a dog or two or three. But his ma would put a stop to it, called the county for pickup.

Now in the cool of the evening I see Billy playing with his dogs. His grease creased hand throwing the ball, first to one and then to another, each dog getting his share of undying acceptance. The dogs running, jumping, jostling each other and Billy, till they knock him down on the grass. And there he stays laughing, like a child playing in the sunlight, his clothes and face full of hair, wet licks… and love.

Luce

P.S. This is not a strict prose poem but a very loose one. The meter and syllabic count is loose and it's part narrative poem. This is why I posted the poem in the FV section.

Overheard at Denny's Bar - Original

Billy got four large dogs.

What? Noooo. You don’t say.

I do say. Billy got four dogs.

But he’s not working. What’s he thinking?

Pinky.

What?

Pinky. That was her name.

Is that one of the dogs?

Hell no! There ain’t no fog.
She died in 83’.

Lee, your hearing aid conked out again? Can you hear me?
And who the hell is Pinky?

You know the sea has never appealed to me Ned.
it always smelled like pee.

Lee, I think it's time to get some eats
You’re in some sort of freakin bog.

You know dogs have always liked me.
and I, in turn, like them. I had three.
And oh! Did you know?

Billy got four large dogs.


Luce

[Critter]

The Dogs - Revision I know nothing about narrative poetry or how it is different from poetic prose but this is a good read...has humanity and is pure in its expression. Just a couple of things I noticed...

Billy got four large dogs. Hard to believe but there you are or rather there they were. The dogs, just hair and muscle with goliath paws, jumping like baby goats. They were all over the lawn and all over Billy and him beaming as if he just inherited England. He was never smart and none to (too) rich, still living in the house after his ma died, still working at the gas station.

Nobody knows when he got them. He’s not saying, as if his neighbors would stoop to listen. They’d rather nod (shake?) their heads in disapproval, say tsk, tsk, all served with their morning muffin. Yes, he was known to feed a dog or two or three. But his ma would put a stop to it, called (call) the county for pickup.

Now in the cool of the evening I see Billy playing with his dogs. His grease creased hand throwing the ball, first to one and then to another, each dog getting his share of undying acceptance. The dogs running, jumping, jostling each other and Billy, till they knock him down on the grass. And there he stays laughing, like a child playing in the sunlight, his clothes and face full of hair, wet licks… and love.

Luce

P.S. This is not a strict prose poem but a very loose one. The meter and syllabic count is loose and it's part narrative poem. This is why I posted the poem in the FV section.

Overheard at Denny's Bar - Original

Billy got four large dogs.

What? Noooo. You don’t say.

I do say. Billy got four dogs.

But he’s not working. What’s he thinking?

Pinky.

What?

Pinky. That was her name.

Is that one of the dogs?

Hell no! There ain’t no fog.
She died in 83’.

Lee, your hearing aid conked out again? Can you hear me?
And who the hell is Pinky?

You know the sea has never appealed to me Ned.
it always smelled like pee.

Lee, I think it's time to get some eats
You’re in some sort of freakin bog.

You know dogs have always liked me.
and I, in turn, like them. I had three.
And oh! Did you know?

Billy got four large dogs.


Luce

[Eisa]

Hi Luce,

Well you have changed this from your original!

I quite like your original and feel that with some work it could have worked. You could always come back to it later and make it a separate poem.

I like your revision too, very much, but feel it is more like prose/short story. All the narrative poems I have read are set into stanzas as Syl has suggested you try. Otherwise you could post in the prose forum.

I'll come back later with any suggestions. Joe has given some good pointers.

Eira

[Luce]

Thanks Syl, Eisa for dropping by and reading this prose poem. Thanks Joe for coming by a second time.
I'm glad you like the poem and left some feedback.

Joe - Glad you like this version. As you said, it has more humanity to it. After writing the first version, I wasn't comfortable with it. It felt like a mean joke. Therefore, I didn't feel it was worth saving. That seldom happens with me but it happens. Besides, I never feel that what I write is set in concrete - never to be changed - and so it is usually easy for me to accept changes or to let it go. And yes, thanks for picking up those grammatical errors. Will change.

Syl & Eisa - The danger of putting a poem in a prose format is that people are conditioned to see it as prose first. That goes double if it has narrative elements to it. I'm sure if I had put it in the stanza format, you would not have thought of it as more prose than poetry. The imagery, slant rhyme, similes, alty's are all there in the poem besides the deliberate repetition of certain words like "there" "all", "still", for rhythm.

However, you've given me an idea. I think I'll break it up in stanzas just to catch any strong prose like lines. But then I'm going to put it back again in prose format.

I like to try out new forms. Writing in one style gets boring. Therefore, I'll be working revising this poem in this form.

Luce

[Luce]

Revision up. Modified some strong prose sounding lines. But, I can't eliminate them all since I need some to move the poem along.

Luce

[Psyche]

Hi Luce,
Joe has made some good pointers already for your 2 revisions. Nice work, Luce.

I think your poem was OK as it was. I'd have liked to make some small nits, but I get confused with the two revisions, which have little in common with the 1st. poem. Perhaps you could post them separately, in Seren's as you wish.
Then I'd get down to concentrating on each one separately. ToT!
Syl

Revision up. Modified some strong prose sounding lines. But, I can't eliminate them all since I need some to move the poem along.

Luce

[Luce]

Hi Luce,
Joe has made some good pointers already for your 2 revisions. Nice work, Luce.

I think your poem was OK as it was.

I'd have liked to make some small nits, but I get confused with the two revisions, which have little in common with the 1st. poem. Perhaps you could post them separately, in Seren's as you wish.
Then I'd get down to concentrating on each one separately. ToT!
Syl

Revision up. Modified some strong prose sounding lines. But, I can't eliminate them all since I need some to move the poem along.

Luce

Syl,

Just concentrate on the revision since it is this revision that I plan to stay on.

Ignore the original.

I'd delete the original, if I could, but posters have already posted comments on it.

Luce