hmmmm, I read this this morning but had no time to critique and I thought about it all day long. It's the kind of poem that sets me into philosophical mode, which is not necessarily a good mood - I might not notice you just talked to me.

First of all I love the mystery in it. Part of poetry's beauty is its enshrouding fog, and this poem's fog is as white and thick as Merlin's beard!

For me this poem is impregnated with a subtle sense of pathos. The watcher and the man dancing share, in my perception of the poem, a connection in their wallowings (not sure the noun exists, but it's a logical derivative from the verb to wallow - if it doesn't I claim my right of Poetic Licence). As a result, they can identify with each other, and their mutual suffering and ennui provides a shade of consolation - a half-smile.

Of course, I will not praise you about the obvious - I will not congratulate on using jack instead of jack daniels, on the play of words in no where and now here - rather, I will praise you for their effectiveness! 'jack' is excellent because of its immense suggestiveness - the reader can think that the man has no one to dance with so he's dancing with his friend, that the man is gay, that the man is drinking jack daniels, and so many other things. and that's why 'jack' is powerful - drown the mystery and you'll drown the poem. I'm glad you didn't

'when no where
becomes now here'

that's wonderful! I like the play with words itself, like any poet or wordlover, after all! But I also like it for another reason - and it's crazy but this is the kind of insanity which poetry extorts from me - the transfer of the letter 'w' from where to no (resulting in 'now here' is to me a suggestive representation of the watcher's response. The woman at the bar, the owner of the half-smile, with her feelings of identification with this man, 'moved' towards him - metaphorically, if not literally - just like the letter w did. Thus for me this play with words is a cryptic hint to decipher the woman's response, together with the half-smile.

Apart from this strange, eccentric reason for liking this part, I also like this part because it figures, in my opinion, an epiphany. Nowhere did the watcher feel like half-smiling, but at that bar, watching that man's misery and identifying it with her own, she could half-smile - now here. Thus the man dancing with jack, a figure reminescent of Democritus (the laughing philosopher, who would laugh - in your case, smile - at the misery and purposelessness of existence) was the man that gave the watcher a degree of solace, however minor!

A last word about that initial 'and'. It's strange, but I liked it. The 'and' implies a continuation - that this is not the beginning of the story, but is rather closer to the end. This lets the reader surmise about what could the watcher's thoughts have been before watching him dance. Very good!

And finally, the poem's structure... Again, very nice. It's in keeping with the enigmatic musings in this poem, also giving the poem a light touch of poignant humour, which is reinforced by the words 'half smile'.

Lovely work, Gwen! My interpretation is probably the ranting of a drunken man, but if I am drunk, then I am drunk on your poetry, which is the best compliment I can ever give you. I look forward to critiqueing more of your work!