a Tiny description

a full time artist, stepmother, radio personality, and mom to an energetic Chug dog, tries to get through the days without committing a felonious act. My life is a rickety Zen circus.


Saturday, August 09, 2008

lost words

my brain has refused to give up it's extensive collection of vocabulary words...it stands there - arms tightly crossed, hip jutting out, spoiled child pout with it's nose in the air. it refuses REFUSES to speak to the mouth. the fingers are okay, but not no never again the mouth. as the mouth runs the attic stairs searching through boxes of haphazardly stashed vowels, consonants, phrases, english, french, yiddish...it becomes more frazzled, more chaotic. i fear soon it will give up altogether. become silent. forgetting all but the most common of words. the mind must compensate with descriptions - the dishwasher becomes the watermaker. a crow becomes the sound it makes CAW CAW. i fear the day when i should become like the women my mother used to care for in the Old Age Home....sitting all day by a window pointing and shouting obscenities which could mean anything from Here comes a car, to Oh look a robin. the hands try to smooth things over, delivering beautiful art. the brain assures me it isn't Me, just the mouth, and fragrant word pictures tickle my soul. the fingers type the words stolen from the mouth. L

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