[Mark McDonnell]

Hi Cameron,

Dare I say it, this feels to me like one of the more straightforward poems you’ve posted. I read it as being about a romantic relationship with a dysfunctional imbalance of power. The speaker feels that while their partner says they want them, the sentiment feels cold and abstract, while they themselves “burn” with more passionate emotion. The speaker feels they have no choice but to “live with” this imbalance and abasement. They see themselves in the image of Goya’s dog: pathetically eager for any affection, while drowning in despair.

It is effectively done, though it doesn’t grab me as much as others you’ve posted. I’m not sure why. The tone feels torn between intellect and very raw, uncomfortable emotion and somehow isn’t quite finding the right balance. I’m not sure about “Language cannot scrape this scene”, which is the kind of thing that can feel self-defeating in a poem, particularly here where it is followed by what I think are the poem’s most striking lines (“the doglike eagerness, pathetically small, / & up to his neck in black with the sky slabbed / down on him like cement”).

Mark