Transformation

I wrote this poem a while back and found it interesting, but I knew it needed some big work. Just like myself, it lacked focus and it was rather sloppy. I'm always big on poems that look good on a page, and this one was not organized to my standards. Revising this poem, I selected my favorite lines and composed a new one. Then, I realized that some lines didn't fit anymore and took those out too. That is why I call revision a destructive process, because I am constantly removing lines and ideas that don't play well with others. But I always keep my first drafts because sometimes revision calls for removal of some favorite lines, and those can always come into play later on when you're looking for new material to use. Oh, yes. I recycle.

This:

I can hardly wait;
riding my bike down
3rd (sweet line break...)
no pedals, because the (no pedals???)
click-click-buzz of coasting (i like this sound!)
makes me smile.
The man next to the face
of a ticking moon inhales cheap tobacco
sends a smoke signal billowing,
billowing towards a cloudless black sky (these lines make no sense and have no purpose)
and I can hardly wait.
The tall grey shadows of
short grey women in slacks and
rusted orange pea coats
stripe the sidewalk, cast upon me (i like the stripes)
like they stand for some
deeper heartache. (i like this too but it's not relevant)
I can hardly wait. To see
what shapes these lines can hold
and what people I'll find behind
the ink. (oooh mystery i like)
I can hardly wait.

Turned into this:

Hardly Wait

I can hardly wait
for this symphony of words
to hit their greatest chord
and to shatter into the perfect celebration
I have always seen in them.

And delicate men and women
will applaud like rain
and the stripes of their shadows
will somehow seem to grow.

And I can hardly wait
to see what shapes this pen can make
as it cuts through the airwaves
conducting this symphony of space.
I can hardly wait.