Oh, Miss Daisy. Have we got a new
leash on life for you. We’re drivin’
these creatures crazy with our fien(d)
-ish ways, our his
and the glazed-crease
smile we gave
those last suckers.
How many licks
(Route 66 clicks)
does it take
Fix your lips
a broken chair.
with a little fire and brim
a Phoenix rising
from the (l)ashes
of one last
My Shawna gave me a word list. Always so much fun, especially on a Grumpy Monday. Let me know if you wanna play!
Isn’t that “wink” in “periwinkle” the absolute best?! When you draw out the “wink,” the almost “Petri” dish pops out at me too. How much do we love paisley? Soooo much.
Really, I could go on that title FOR-EVER. It could be a real porcupine, or it could be a person who’s like a porcupine … or who works at a zoo … or who likes porcupine pictures on everything. And dressed in periwinkle?! YES! I’m picturing it as a light blue/pale-purple paisley-all-over suit. 🙂
I was just talking about that movie the other day … Driving Miss Daisy. Adorable flick. 🙂
these creatures crazy with our fien(d)” … Our De IS fine. 😉
I LOVE the tucked-in Finnish as well. Also “our his-tree.” Fab(c)-u-lus(h/t).
(pH)” … also becomes “trippy.”
tootsie pops … Love them. “Fix your lips” … Yes, exactly. … That next bit is fantastic abstract poety. Fix your lips on a broken chair. That turns you into a beaver, I think. What do we do with broken wood? We eat it. Or we build a damn. There’s work to be done. We don’t just sit there and cry about the broken chair. We repurpose that shiznik.
“a broken chair.
Now,” … It’s a broken chair NOW. But if that’s all you see, that’s all you’ll ever have. You have to put in the work to turn it into something else. My dad used to love finding old, discarded boards and building these really awesome chairs out of them. You just let something sit there, it’s only going to keep rotting. You stop letting your bad attitude fester, you can come up with something new. Duh.
I LOVE all that magic you pulled off in the last stanza. You rule. 🙂
When we first started with a “small group” at our church, there was this phrase they threw around: Open Chair. It meant you had a place in your small group (at all times) to ask a new person to join. Well, our first couples’ small group was kind of intense, and there were some very private issues going on with one couple in particular, so we called ours a “Broken Chair.” I think there’s some of that in this, too. The closing off of yourself from the world, the not inviting new friendships or relationships in. The closing of your own song.
Sometimes it’s the only way.