throwing a wrench into a crooked moon

.
we have studiously quib
-bled over custody, custard,
Custer’s last stand.

we’ve glanced our blows
upwards, danced the robot
and downplayed our hands.

paddle on, love. the horizon is waiting.

 

 

..
prompted by poetic asides

 

 

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2 Responses to throwing a wrench into a crooked moon

  1. Always, the horizon is waiting! Brilliant! I love the sound of this one – it’s definitely one to be read aloud.

  2. jewel grey says:

    Holy funkadilly. This is amazing!!!

    I am a huge fan of the quib approach. Let’s just ignore it until it doesn’t exist. Forget and forget and forget. It’s the best way.

    Isn’t this exactly the stuff we fight over?! … “custard, Custer’s last stand” … It’s the little things that drive you straight to divorce court.

    “danced the robot
    and downplayed our hands” … Perfect. You’ve mastered it. The way to get past the squabbles. Dance, hold your hands behind your back (i.e., don’t cat fight, physically or verbally … or Cold War-ily), and also, and most importantly, “hor/i/zon.” 🙂 In other words, give it up, yo. Like I always say, laughter and sex keep people married.

    The boat set-up makes me picture that scene in Little Mermaid where the eels knock them over before they can kiss. They can’t communicate all the things that need to be said, but they can look into each other’s eyes and get intimate. It seems like everyone’s out to keep them apart, though.

    I wonder if it’s better when we keep our mouths shut to a degree, like in the earlier stages of a relationship. Later on, we let our tongues flap more freely, and that’s really when we start to get into trouble. Keep it zipped up, to an extent (lips, not zippers!).

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