ekarbin's profile
AGE:
23
LOC: Arlington Heights, IL
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: September 05
LOC: Arlington Heights, IL
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: September 05
Editor-in-Chief of AdHoc Quarterly; A Cultural Cross-Section of Literature & Art
We’re always looking for talented artists. Visit the website: www.adhocquarterly.com
Additionally, I must say that as much as I enjoy writing, sometimes I enjoy critiquing even more. It takes a certain type of person to let a stranger inside their head to see and feel their work and I respect every writer who exposes themselves to such vulnerability. With that said, please know that if I happen to rip you a new one, its because I really care. Seriously.
Seriously.
Items
Version 3
15 Reviews
5 Comments
He was on fire. The grass in the yard was dying and the water spigot was rusting and John was asleep on the sofa. The last check came by mail three weeks before the third anniversary of the accident. Sam put the envelope in the front pocket of his work coveralls, the stiff, white corner of the check covering the red embroidered “s” of his name, turning it into something unfamiliar. Sam stood in the center of the tiny kitchen scuffing the rubber soles of his work boots against the chipped bro...
Ratings & Rankings
Version 1
8 Reviews
0 Comments
The north Texas winds are always meaner in the fall, bringing with them thoughts of tornadoes and the musk of the Mississippi. These winds rattle windows off farmhouse frames and spook cattle into believing in a fate worse than the slaughterhouse. These winds don’t care about man made dams or peeling farm stands; if they’re angry, they’ll bowl it all over and stretch it back to the dusty plain it used to be. It’s these winds that’ll wake a man in the middle of the night and force him outsi...
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Reviews
I like this poem in that it deals well in an overwrought subject. However, there are some things I'd look into, were I you. Firstly, there seems to be a quasi-AB rhyme scheme going on here, which is good. However, its effect is undone because of the absence of a metrical line. For example, the line "we are near the final days of man" is in almost perfect pentameter (5 beats of two syllables per line) and almost perfectly trochaic, that is there is a strong stress followed by a weaker one that...
I like this piece a lot in that it very deftly underscores both the outrage of frankly broken system, and the cringe of ego bruise that goes with it. I also really like the humor throughout. What I CAN'T get behind, though, is calling it a limerick. To be nit picky, a limerick is a verse of five lines that is usually humorous (which this totally is). However, I think you got lost a little in the metrical structure of the piece. The limerick, like the haiku, has a prescibed meter for each line...
This is a rather interesting piece. I like the language, very well thought and chosen and ultimately illustrative of the main point. I dislike the excessive anaphora of "it (verb)" at least I dislike it in this format. To me, this reads much like a poem but it looks like a short story. Simply break up the lines a bit and, voila! a poem. I would, however, caution against starting each line with "it". This piece actually reminds me of a story by Miranda July from her collection "No One Belongs ...
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