Swingthrough
Timing. Measurement. Management. Here's a 2 by 4. Here's an 8 x10. Here's a set of words to drop in from beginning to end. It may or may not work depending on context. Depending on southern twang versus received pronunciation. Depending on quickness and comprehensiveness to the subject at hand. In that case, take 2 by 4 and smash 8x10 and start over again until you create a picture worth 1000 more words of your verse.
Whatever happened to Helen, anyway?
There I was. In front of a room. In front of the people that filled it. And I was thinking too much. I have nothing new to say. I have nothing you don't know already. I don't understand the purpose of tongue twisting it into new words to repeat as if another phrase makes it more interesting. They make sure to call it a press conference when it's not governmental because somehow that makes it more legitimate. A bunch of people are hired to do it. People twist their heads as they drive by like they do with any commotion to find out what's going on. Which often slows them down. And ends up to be a waste of time. For something they probably already know about it. I want to announce that I have nothing new to say. The very opposite of the purpose. Maybe it works when something new is expected,
Not.
For a limited time only... Act now ... While supplies last ...
There are offerings made like something special or something sacrificial while really its just leftovers or more of the same. Like money from a rich man, jewels from a safe, especially minted anything that's a sure collector's item. I found a beautiful shell. I found a mysterious rock. I have some grains of sand from a day long ago. I don't say much. I gave a shell. I gave a rock. They're nothing, but they're things I loved.
Spiking. Heightening. It's the wave of today as far as I can tell, but I live on the outskirts of nowhere to be honest, They're watching tv in an inset while a movie streams in the background and someone online somewhere is waiting for one to finish a word game turn while drinking tea that has ginger in it and there's jasmine on the leaves and the potato chips have cheese dust on it or in it and did you know you can get jalapeño or sriracha already ON them? And it's all happening at the same time while a ticker runs on the bottom of the screen to tell you how much you've lost or made. The age of resensitizing will not happen this way, I don't think, But really, who am I to say. Sometimes, you spike my clouds with sunshine.
After the thirteenth Friday in a row that wasn't a 13th of some month, he swore I was cursed. He had kept a log of each day with graphs and dictation and somehow he had assessed that Fridays were dooming me. He took off the entire month of February and said he found the remedy. Every hour matched with its minute he went outside and howled at the moon or for the moon, depending on the time of day. And with the exception of Sundays, the only thing he ate was garlic. Roasted, raw, fried, juiced. He said if I didn't take it seriously, at least maybe some of his aura could protect me somehow. It was the fourteenth Friday that he started, and I really sat and thought about it. By the seventeenth Friday, as I watched him feverishly tilt his head for sky, there was really no denying that he must have been right.
Inside out indulgence.
Try. And, if you do, make sure whatever opportunity is there, is worthy of you.
Some fly, some soar. There's a difference.
The sweetest soar I ever witnessed was a powerful, direct, planned, unregretted distance. It was much more than a walk away, and not cheap like a swagger. Both feet on the ground.
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writing since 2014 · 20 entries · 20 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Swing showed up.
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the words Swing reaches for
workwordsdependingresetsurefridaysomehowalreadyacthappennobodyinsidemercylivegameanyway