Crescendo | at wit’s end | crescendo

Crescendo | at wit’s end | crescendo
building the dammed hypersensitive | water sensitive
instruments | pricked up ears nose eyes | wet-ordinary words.
Woke early. Set up the production line
: someone to scrub & polish | cut into fence posts
& finally someone to clinch back the rubber band
& settle the cut | polished | paneled carrot into the leather pad
of the slingshot then release at the auburn sun
gasping for sustenance like thirsty swans.
We ate toast with cubes of butter.
First we played rock-scissors-paper | to determine
who will un-twizzle the plastic cordage fastening
the loaf— whoever wins gets to unravel
the helix of their DNA & raise the bar |
shuffling an inch closer to origin & teach
the rest of us: “we no longer identify
as muons in a gluon world.”

6 thoughts on “Crescendo | at wit’s end | crescendo

    1. Not far off the mark pal. This was me toying a bit more with just letting stuff seep out without so much consideration of meaning, it was one of the first in this ‘Thinking out loud…” series, which has since morphed once again into be over thinking & writing more considered poems. Always ends up that way.

      Sorry haven’t got over to your latest post, will try. Spring hit, our work horse decided to suddenly quit to go roaming the mountains (old git he is) so i have been lumbered with a heavy work load. Sorry if there is any radio silence. i know this isn’t necessarily a this for that agreement, but just wanted you to know my circumstance, for what it is worth,

      1. All good, Daniel. I appreciate you letting me know, and sorry to hear you’re overworked. And as you say, no need, but thanks.

        I’ve got into the unfortunate situation where I don’t have enough time to finish the conversations from one week before the next week turns up, and I’ve made a number of slip ups here and there, missing comments altogether due to rushing. I would like to be roaming those mountains too (two old gits).

        Just coming back to the poetry for a moment, always interesting to hear how it happens for other poets. I wonder… are these different amounts of conscious consideration a problem? One of my concerns is that I’m too repetitive, and perhaps that partly relates to me always writing more or less the same way.

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