[Glenn Wright]

Version 2
Cut

With Occam’s razor I somehow cut my heart,
poking around my lover’s glib excuses.
Most of her lies were flimsy. They fell apart
when touched by tears. I saw that the abuses
had been there in plain sight for quite a while.
I bandaged my injury with a forced smile.

Considering all the evidence together,
of course her words and heart had been untrue.
I’d tried to explain her moodiness as weather,
the storms and dry spells couples all go through.
Receipts, late night homecomings, a phone call
from a strange man—I’d overlooked them all.

I told her I had finally solved her puzzle.
Her silent nod congratulated me.
I stayed composed by straining every muscle
while listening to the curt apology
she offered like a bowl brimful of acid.
Her voice was steady; her features, smooth and placid.

Naming it out loud was oddly calming.
It gave some weight and shape to what had been
a premonition, threatening and alarming,
now just a paper cut, deep in the skin,
without much blood. I’ll clean and bind the damage,
and accept it as a hurt that I can manage.
Relieved, she packed her things and left her key,
Cutting me loose and setting us both free.
——————————————————
Edits:
S1L1: Today with Occam’s razor I cut my heart, > With Occam’s razor I somehow cut my heart,
S1L3: the > her
S2L5: Receipts, unexplained absences, the phone call > Receipts, late night homecomings, a phone call
S2L6: from a strange man—I’d put them behind a wall. > from a strange man—I’d overlooked them all.
S4L8: Cutting me loose and setting herself free. > Cutting me loose and setting us both free.

Version 1
Cut

Today with Occam’s razor I cut my heart,
poking around my lover’s glib excuses.
Most of the lies were flimsy. They fell apart
when touched by tears. I saw that the abuses
had been there in plain sight for quite a while.
To bandage my injury I used a smile.

Looking at all the evidence together,
of course her words and heart had been untrue.
I’d tried to explain her moodiness as weather,
the storms and dry spells couples all go through.
Receipts, distracted silences, the phone call
from a strange man—I’d put them behind a wall.

So saying it out loud was strangely calming.
It gave some weight and shape to what had been
a premonition, threatening and alarming,
and was now a paper cut, deep in the skin,
but not much blood. I’ll clean and bind the damage
and accept it as a hurt that I can manage.

I told her I was done solving her puzzles.
Her silent nod congratulated me.
My face grew stiff and tense, my smiling muscles
ached. She made a curt apology,
offered like a bowl brimful of acid.
Her voice was steady; her features, smooth and placid.

Her speech was free of blame and of remorse.
She’d had it ready. I think she was relieved.
Her lack of feeling for me made it worse,
knowing how easily she had deceived
my willing heart. She packed and left her key,
cutting me loose and setting herself free.
——————————————————
Edits:
Title: Turning the Page > Cut
S1L2: poking around in all her glib excuses. > poking around my lover’s glib excuses.
S2L2: of course I must have known she’d been untrue. > of course her words and heart had been untrue.
S2L3: I’d tried to explain her distance as just weather, > I’d tried to explain her moodiness as weather,
S2L6: from a strange man—they made me build a wall. > from a strange man—I’d put them behind a wall.
S3L4: a paper cut, painful, deep in the skin, > and was now a paper cut, deep in the skin,
S4L1: I told her I had finally solved her puzzle. > I told her I was done solving her puzzles.
S4L4: ached. She made a calm apology. > ached. She made a curt apology.

[Max Goodman]

This is strong and moving. The paper cut, the bowl of acid, lies falling apart when touched by tears, Occam's razor cutting flesh, these lift the poem close to me.

In places, images feel less fresh, metaphors so common they've passed into the language and likely feel to many readers like straightforward ways to communicate; I may be aberrant in disliking them, but my reaction, aberrant or not, is all I can offer: the heart as the seat of emotion, the wall, the page turning of the title, "untrue."

I first read "her" in L2 as referring to the speaker's heart, which prevented me from understanding the rest of the stanza until I'd gotten further. The abuses in S1 are too vague to be helpful. They become more specific later, but are first allowed to sit there while the poem goes elsewhere. The cleaning and binding deal with the surgery described in the first line, but their placement makes them sound like they deal with the paper cut.

There's little to surprise, little that I don't feel I've seen in other such situations, but that doesn't bother me. This feels close to the bone (another of those non-metaphor metaphors, but I'm not writing a poem here), felt, true. So true that I'm inclined to offer condolences, assuming you've lived this. Strong work.

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Max—

I appreciate your kind encouragement and helpful critique. This piece is based on events from more than fifty years ago, so I can understand how my earnest, overly Romantic younger self could be wearying to a practical, ambitious young woman. I don’t regret the breakup and shortly afterward met the woman with whom I celebrated our fiftieth anniversary last year.

I was not happy with the title, so thanks for giving me the impetus to change it. I wanted the “cutting” image to refer both to the injury of the betrayal and the therapeutic surgery necessary to heal it. The “heart as the seat of emotion” was too central to the poem to allow jettisoning, but I hoped that the references to cutting refreshed it somewhat (like Janis Joplin’s “Take another little piece of my heart.”). I wanted the betrayal to seem, at first, like a laceration to the heart—probably fatal—but then to morph into a paper cut to a finger—painful, but hardly lethal. From your response, I’m not sure this was effectively communicated.

You rightly pointed out that “her” in S1L2 and “wall” in S2L6 needed to be brought into focus, so I made some tweaks. You also judiciously pointed out that “untrue” has a Victorian nuance that jars. My solution was to use it in a zeugma to play off the literal meaning with “words” (“false words”) and the more antiquated figurative meaning with “heart” (“faithless heart”). My hope is that the literal meaning will justify the figurative one.

Thanks again for your time and generosity.

Glenn

[Harry Nicolas]

Hey Glenn, I thought the opening line was very striking. Sorry you had to go through that. I think the only suggestion in S4 L1 to consider changing
"I told her I had finally solved her puzzle."
to
"I told her I had finally solved her glass(or some other word to tie back to flimsy) puzzles. "
in order for the end rhyme with L3 to match.

[Roger Slater]

"I don’t regret the breakup and shortly afterward met the woman with whom I celebrated our fiftieth anniversary last year."

Maybe another stanza saying that, or something like that? As the poem now stands, I think it's very well written but doesn't finish telling us its story.

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Harry and Roger—

Thanks for weighing in, gentlemen.

Harry—I gave your suggestion to fix the rhyme sone thought and came up with an alternative that I think is an improvement. There are a couple of slantish rhymes in S3, (calming/alarming and damage/manage), and an eye rhyme in S5 (remorse/worse), but most of the rhymes are pretty exact, so the puzzle/muscles rhyme you identified stuck out. Glad you liked the opening.

Roger—Emotionally, I don’t feel any connection between the two romances. The poem is about an experience that I regard as a learning experience and object lesson. I just got lucky finding the love of my life soon after. Thanks for the encouragement.

Glenn

[David Callin]

This is a sad story, Glenn. It arouses the reader's sympathy (although we're conscious we're only getting one side of the story).

I might go against the grain of the other comments by suggesting that it could be shorter. Brutally, I think losing the second and third verses would do the poem some good. I realise that it might not then say everything you want to say. I just wonder whether that would work better.

Cheers

David

[Trevor Conway]

Hi Glenn,

I enjoyed this. It works very well overall. That said, I have plenty of feedback, as detailed below for handiness.

Best of luck with this.

Trev

Cut [how about "Wound"? I often find the repetition of the title in the first line gives the sense of a lack of imagination in word choice]

Today[,] with Occam’s razor[,] I cut my heart, [great opener]
poking around my lover’s [or just "her"?] glib excuses.
Most of the lies were flimsy. They fell apart
when touched [or diluted/prodded?] by tears. I saw that the abuses [bold = delete]
had been there in plain sight [any more original phrase for in plain sight?] For quite a while.
I bandaged my injury with a forced smile. [Nice idea here]

Considering all the evidence together,
of course[,] her words and heart had been untrue.
I’d tried to explain her moodiness as weather,
the storms and dry spells couples all go through.
Receipts, unexplained absences, the phone call
from a strange man—I’d put them behind a wall. [This feels a bit weak towards the end, the wall idea there simply to rhyme with call. I think you could do better. Even "all" would probably conjure up something better, like "I'd squashed/refuted/undone them all"]

I told her I had finally solved her puzzle.
Her silent nod congratulated me.
I stayed composed by straining every muscle
while listening to the [her] curt apology[,]
she offered, like a [steaming/sizzling] bowl brimful of acid.
Her voice was steady[,]; her features, smooth and placid.

[Some re-structuring and deletion below - easier to illustrate my suggestions by just writing it out anew]

Naming it out loud was oddly calming.
I came to accept that I could manage.
The news itself was less damning,
and I was resolved to clean the damage.
Relieved, she packed, and left her key,
cutting me loose and setting herself free. [How about "..., and we both were free"?]

[Glenn Wright]

Hi, Trev—

Thanks for taking the time to give such a detailed and thoughtful analysis and critique of my poem. I used two of your suggestions to improve it.

First, I agree that S2L6 was weak and rhyme-driven. I replaced “I’d put them behind a wall” with “I’d overlooked them all,” which works much better logically and metrically.

Second, I liked the idea of suggesting a happier ending by changing “and set herself free” to “and set us both free” in the last line. The N would not have seen it as being for the best before the breakup, but now begins to realize that he is better off.

I appreciate your help.

Glenn

[Matt Q]

Hi Glenn,

I think this tells its story well. I also think it ends in the right place. The voice is measured and straightforward -- no poetic intrusions, which I think works well. That said, the N's tone is very measured for a story of betrayal and the ending of relationship that's being told on the day it happened. One might expect some anger, or bitterness or recriminations in the immediate aftermath. I did wonder if you started the poem, "That day" instead of "Today" it would allow for some time to have passed for the N to have realised that actually the ending was a good thing, and this might better account for the measured tone. Of course, he may have come to this realisation immediately and consequently felt quite calm about it all. Anyway, just a thought.

In S1, I wonder if there's a little too much distancing, "the lies", "the abuses", and I wondered if at least one of the "the"s should be replaced by "her"?

"unexplained absences", seems something of a well-worn phrase, plus I wonder if there's something less abstract/technical sounding? "The nights she stayed out late", say? (perhaps that not much fresher, but it is less abstract). I dunno, maybe it's just that I find, "receipts, unexplained absences" lacking in music.

S2L6, "overlooked" is somewhat ambiguous. It can mean he didn't notice the clues, or it can mean he noticed them but let them pass. Probably context is enough to tie down which sense is intended, but maybe a different verb?

Here in S3:

I stayed composed by straining every muscle
while listening to the curt apology
she offered, like a bowl brimful of acid.

My first thought that was that "she offered" seems redundant insofar as it tells me nothing knew. I already know who's apologising.

Then I started to wonder what, exactly, was "like a bowl brimful of acid". Grammatically, it seems to say, "Like a bowl brimful of acid, I stayed composed by straining every muscle ...". I think it's much more likely you mean that the apology is offered as one would offer bowl of acid. In which case, I think you have an errant comma in that line. Lose it and these lines make more sense to me, and in addition the offering part no longer seems redundant since it connects to the image of offering a bowl.

a premonition, threatening and alarming,
now, just a paper cut, deep in the skin,

I think you need to lose the comma after "now".

best,

Matt