Editing Obsession

Am I the only one who can get absolutely absorbed in editing a piece? I've been reworking reworking reworking a poem, Miscarriage, that I wrote maybe three weeks ago. And it's morphing into something strange.

Anyway - here's just a stanza, and it's three different stages as an example:

Version 1

The toothless smile of satisfaction – rose
across her dimpled abdomen. Her breasts
hang above, the heads of a widows in prayer.

Everyone watches – eyes taking
in the color of bare skin – skin bending
in the hurricane that blew past. She sways
to the music that couldn’t carry her home.


VERSION 2

All the eyes are on her toothless smile–the rose lips
that cut across her dimpled abdomen. Her breasts
hang above, the heavy heads of a widows in prayer.

Her bare skin bends in the hurricane that blows past
as she sways to the music that couldn’t carry her home.

VERSION 3

As she dances - her voice thunders in the hum
of fronds, and all eyes are on the toothless smile –
the rose lips that slice
across her dimpled trunk. Her breasts hang
above, the heavy heads of widows
heaving a prayer to the wind:

please carry my smallest of seeds home.



HUH? Going from one to three, you hardly see any resemblence - except the two central images of the scar and the boobs.

I know I blogged about this piece before, but man is it bugging me.

Ok, well - back to my regularly scheduled day of sneezing.

Achoo!