Typed Wildly While Over-Vibing To ZONED OUT By Hot Milk And Woahing Over Refill Coffee In A Somewhere-Wetherspoon’s Yet again so stupidly and beautifully reeling with all uppercase feeling when someone pats the head of their pint glass like a soon-to-go doggy.
True. Messy is gritty, raw, real, the kind of word deluge that leaves you exhausted but safe in the knowledge that something workable has come unchained from self-censorship :)
Amen (as usual) Loretta. Something Workable: cool name for a workshop on permission-giving, on foraging for brief meaning to then shape and hone and hold up to the light and the dark from different angles.
Things to do in grief
Think of
the curtain round her bed,
a paper blue cocoon,
a patient nearby levitates,
another, searches for her son,
young priest tries out
some awkward jokes,
a low voice from reception
‘a space will free up soon’
another shift has ended,
a nurse slips out to smoke,
we exit strip light corridors
into a chilly dawn,
wait for a taxi driver
who’s seen it all before.
Things to do in a hospital waiting room:
Gel hands, inhale it's fumes.
It's been months since my last night out
drinking too strong mojitos.
We've been here before, same room.
A kid plays 'Watermelon' on his mom's phone,
furiously tapping bubble fruit
before they go bubble POP!
A kind doctor says kind things to my preteen,
cracking the code to her real cheeky smile.
"It's going to be alright" and she believes.
I nod so that at least my head believes too.
Chocolate treats & clothes shopping,
we run for the bus cos that lady in Tkmaxx
took her sweet time and mine
choosing the right sized carrier bag.
//
It needs finishing but this is first draft written on the bus.
I nod so that at least my head believes too… love it
Yeah holy shit, that line. Also the swerve from opening description to the reflective 'it's been months...' was gorgeous, Treasa.
Great stuff Jim. Here's a quick mess of notes in response...
Typing through the window
Late leaves bud beneath the roar of metal wings
their siblings calling
to the ocean
they feel on wet days
but will never see.
Fingers clamour with Birds
‘I’m here’ / ‘Feed me’ / ‘This is my space’
‘Are you still there?’
'Fingers clamour with birds,' great line, a sort of eerie longing to it.
A mess of notes - what every first draft should honestly aim for.
The first line is so maybe unintentionally strange and fresh - typing 'through' the window.
True. Messy is gritty, raw, real, the kind of word deluge that leaves you exhausted but safe in the knowledge that something workable has come unchained from self-censorship :)
Amen (as usual) Loretta. Something Workable: cool name for a workshop on permission-giving, on foraging for brief meaning to then shape and hone and hold up to the light and the dark from different angles.