Falling’s not the problem,
really. (Landing sucks, but
she’s about to shake it off.)
It’s the bent pedal. The handle
bars askew. The achoo of a
moment when the whole
world is upside-down and
the sky is slanted and the
day goes sway. It’s the way
her skin no longer knows
the syllables of its own
The no place like home
that no longer means
prompted by mindloemiserysmenagerie.
I did so like this take on the image, lovely with such language as to invite discussion.
I thought of but didn’t not write of Dorothy… 😉
I was in a car accident once where I blacked out… very upside down and sing-less.
I played but used one of Quickly’s museum photos.
The way you stacked “own” and “sing” makes it turn into “now sing” and then “noising.” When my firstborn was little, she heard a funny noise and said, “What was that noising?!” It’s one of our favorite memories. 🙂
Beautiful word play 🙂 Music to mine ears lol
In other words it stinks to have your stride broken – I can sure relate to that!
…. the achoo of a moment – what a great line!
“Landing sucks butt.” You’re hilarious. 🙂 I love the Taylor Swift nod!!!
Your line breaks are unbelievably insightful.
“It’s the bent pedal. The handle … (What’s in a name?)
bars askew. The achoo of a … (I would love to go to a bar with you.)
moment when the whole … (She’s in pieces; not whole at all.)
world is upside-down and” … (upside-down and … and what?! what ELSE is going to go wrong?)
Last night, I asked J to take the baby upstairs. Instead, she carried him into the kitchen. From her arms, he grabbed a glass coffee cup by the handle and threw it on the floor, spilling hot tea everywhere. Then J slipped in it and fell, holding the baby. She twisted her leg badly enough that I was scared she broke something. Glass was everywhere. Then I had to get the trashcan down from the counter (where I have to keep it so that the baby doesn’t dump it over every 5 minutes). As I was pulling it down, the bottom of the trashcan hit J in the head, hard. So then she was even more hysterical. I had to get the baby to his dad and J upstairs with ice packs and wet rags. Cleaned them up and then had to come back downstairs to clean the entire floor, because as you know, when glass breaks on tile, it spreads out insanely and you’re pulling brokenness out of your feet for weeks.
Needless to say, I’m constantly saying “and …?” What the heck is next, dude. I’ve had. Like seriously had it. And yet, there’s no way to quit.
Oh, man. I had a visceral reaction while reading your comment. 😦 I’m so sorry. I hate situations like that. I remember them well, because my hooligans are 16 months apart. Ugh.
Always well done.
humans always tend to escape from one home just to ‘weave’ another…we like comfort…so, falling – only temporary mode, I think… ~ nicely written.
her skin no longer knows
the syllables of its own” such a powerful line!