tales told twicet from some memories long since past (blahg #40)

"get caught up" she says.
there's no catching up with her talking

teeth and tongues clicking and clinking.


seriously, if she ever took
a moment to just breathe she'd
find god and maybe then she'd shut up.

the yap, the trap,
it is open for giving me
the business. like i
had thought before, "Why not
give in, stop calling the fouls and
and the unnecessary roughness and fall
limp. possum dead. she would sniff and
scratch a little and convinced you're not
worth it she could scuttle on."

but it doesn't work that way. nope... she was
named after saint tenacious. terror and treachery
were gifts grafted on to her by her mother.
out of control, a career in firing up careening emotions.

mother means thorough
mother means deliberate
mother means permeate
mother means absolute

she did her job on that daughter.
the other daughter too, she meant to warp them and
water damage takes time. the single drop every few minutes
that pools eventually and seeps deep into the grain.
expand and contract... wet then dry then wet again.
yup. that's the stuff. right there, that's not a
twinkle
in her eyes... but a twinge... a reaction the well conditioned
emotion muscles that weigh down the lips, forms the crease above
the brow, taking the reasonable straight line to glorious new
angles. each lift marks or beeps a new stage of disappointment.

at some point i need to pause, or block out the talking,
to ask,

"has anyone ever done anything right?"

grimm