The Wednesdays News

The below is a computer-generated response from Neo, Neopoet’s AI:

The organizing conceit here is the poem's strongest asset: assigning emotional weight to the days of the week and treating the speaker as a kind of Wednesday, caught between states, gives the piece a structure that the imagery can hang on. The opening line establishes this economically — "Sick like a Monday, displaced like a Thursday" sets up a vocabulary the poem then develops, and the move from being "a Tuesday" toward the hoped-for Saturday gives the sequence a forward pull rather than leaving it as a static list of moods.

Several individual images land with real precision. "Wearing rose colored glasses, to hide the redness in my eyes" earns its turn because the familiar idiom is bent toward something specific and physical; the glasses do double duty. "Singing soft lullabies to the deaf and watching stop motion with the blind" works through its paired futility, and the gentleness of the gesture against its pointlessness carries genuine feeling. The closing image of the newsman who yells "I have no idea what I'm doing" is a strong place to end, partly because it externalizes the speaker's disorientation onto a figure whose whole job is supposed to be clarity and authority.

Where the poem is less sure of itself is in the density of figuration. Nearly every line reaches for a striking image, and the accumulation can blunt the effect of any single one — the rotting fruit, the bug eating dinner, the snails, the frog and Mars arrive in quick succession without room to breathe. Selecting the few images that carry the most weight and letting the others fall away would let the strongest ones register. The line about "yesterday's ball of small snails," for instance, is hard to parse against the clearer images around it, and it competes with them rather than adding.

The middle section beginning "In the corner, I was picturing the legend of my future and the ambiguity of my past" shifts toward more abstract, stated language after the concrete imagery that precedes it. "Legend," "ambiguity," "the past is not present" tell the reader about the speaker's condition rather than enacting it, and the poem is more alive when it shows that condition through the lullabies and the dead screen. Recasting those abstractions into images consistent with the rest would keep the texture even.

One small craft note: the isolated line "My mind" repeats the phrase from the line just above it, and as a one-beat fragment it reads more like an unintended echo than a deliberate emphasis. If the intent is a pause or a turn inward, the poem might signal that more clearly, since as it stands the repetition risks looking accidental rather than chosen.

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that one could even take some lines apart and use them more effectively; like: 
Gripping pastimes, dancing crudely with nostalgia
Eating the rotten fruit, so not to waste my failure.
Sitting on the floor, singing stories of yesterday.
Holding the closet door, waiting for tomorrow.

Just a few thoughts about how to smooth it out for the saying.  Geezer.