Date: 2009-05-29 08:21 am (UTC)
Really?!? I think that one has the most compelling prosody. Let's see...

the songs on the radio no longer recognize me
the clothes in my dresser my dresser my bedroom this city


The words start to tumble over each other here (the "me" and then the doubled syllable "city" for example) and then they pause and regain their composure after each "my":

my mother no longer recognizes my
voice on the phone
my father no longer recognizes my
childhood memories


Then they tumble anew:

my days no longer recognize me my nights no longer recognize me my face in the mirror my metal skin my hands holding the knife carefully slicing a lemon the mist condensing on the surface of the cutting board no longer

And then after what in my mind is something of an inhalation pause they continue again:

not even the past

I'm glad you couldn't give up the lemon -- it's little details like that that give it a jolt of reality and make the whole thing easy to visualize instead of purely abstract. Especially since lemons are such a vibrant color.

(I hope this amateur analysis is not too amateurish!)
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