Author Topic: Mike on Broadway  (Read 137 times)

Dammit

  • Achilles bursitis
  • Posts: 234
Mike on Broadway
« on: August 16, 2019, 03:04:37 PM »
I thought that Mike on Broadway was among the best narrative poetry that I've heard in a long time. As a recovering English major, I thought I'd heard some decent metaphors in there about being born in dirt, digging holes, burying the dead, while we wait for a nice warm hole of our very own. I thought the ending, too, was just right - not to preachy, sappy, or heavy handed.

My town was like that, too, though the dirt was covered with tract housing and grass when I was born. I am beginning to think that many of these Love-it-or-leave-it Levittowns are more like army barracks or army housing. So many of my friends enlisted and ended up serving many tours in Iraq 1, 2, Kosovo, Afghanistan. These events are not without consequence, and one childhood friend whom I've known since kindergarten is particularly broken. Heh, once in first grade, the girl sitting next to me barfed all over her desk, and my friend stood up and shrieked, "SHE PUKED!"

I'd never herd the word before then, but I've not forgotten that.

Anyway, cheer's Mr. Lisk. You have the gift.

Krokodil_Gena

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Re: Mike on Broadway
« Reply #1 on: August 20, 2019, 08:40:01 PM »
I thought that Mike on Broadway was among the best narrative poetry that I've heard in a long time. As a recovering English major, I thought I'd heard some decent metaphors in there about being born in dirt, digging holes, burying the dead, while we wait for a nice warm hole of our very own. I thought the ending, too, was just right - not to preachy, sappy, or heavy handed.

My town was like that, too, though the dirt was covered with tract housing and grass when I was born. I am beginning to think that many of these Love-it-or-leave-it Levittowns are more like army barracks or army housing. So many of my friends enlisted and ended up serving many tours in Iraq 1, 2, Kosovo, Afghanistan. These events are not without consequence, and one childhood friend whom I've known since kindergarten is particularly broken. Heh, once in first grade, the girl sitting next to me barfed all over her desk, and my friend stood up and shrieked, "SHE PUKED!"

I'd never herd the word before then, but I've not forgotten that.

Anyway, cheer's Mr. Lisk. You have the gift.

It is a dark look into the New Jersey suburbs, turning pain and senselessness into art. It deserves to be played on actual radio.