Flipping fajitas late one night in a strange kitchen
Half handedly working the frying pan
beating back the humid heat
into which emptiness sank outside and in
with deft nubs he gamboled
cheap spice packets pushing
back glasses to adjust the burner and sniff
something that hung in the air
Marvelously entertaining those
dangling before the chipped cinder blocks beneath cracked molding:
Two boys, nearly twice his size.
Somehow he was more alive
Or in control
keeping a firm grasp
of the moment at least
It seemed all this, I think,
While we stooped and struggled in our earmarked corners, half together,
Concealed by chores and chapters, caught inside rhymes of passage,
losing a little more than our height,
while inside our heads, a little more hope than hunger,
ate at the violent, mute, unheralded thing I
could not name.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Max Was Marvelous / Catatonic Craving
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4 comments:
Here is what I am going to do. I am going to leave the original form as the first comment, then iterate on the face of the original post in response to feedback.
Max Was Marvelous
Flipping fajitas late one night in a strange kitchen
Half handedly working the frying pan
beating back the humid outside
with deft nubs
and cheap spice packets
marvelously entertaining
filling with persona up to cracked molding
Two boys, half to men, nearly twice his size each
I think he was more alive
tricking his way further
from our school
apparently in control
maintaining a firm grasp
at least of the moment
While we stooped and struggled in our corners, half together,
losing even a little more than our height
hoping to ably, and wholesomely, cook a fraction as well
i made some changes
Charles's edits (in case it further iterates):
Max Was Marvelous / Catatonic Craving
Flipping fajitas late one night in a strange kitchen
Half handedly working the frying pan
beating back the humid heat
into which emptiness sank outside and in
with deft nubs he gamboled
and seasoned with cheap spice packets pushing
back glasses to adjust the burner and sniff
something that hung in the air
Marvelously entertaining he was who dangled before
the chipped blocks beneath cracked molding:
Two boys, nearly twice his size.
Somehow more alive
Or in control
maintaining a firm grasp
of the moment at least
It seemed all this, I think,
While we stooped and struggled in our allotted corners, half together,
Concealed by chores and chapters, caught inside rites of passage,
losing a little more than our height,
and inside our heads, more hope than hunger,
came the violent, mute, unheralded thing I
cannot name.
Couldn't help myself:
Flipping fajitas late one night in a strange kitchen
Half handedly working the frying pan
beating back the humid heat
into which emptiness sank outside and in
with deft nubs he gamboled
cheap spice packets pushing
back glasses to adjust the burner and sniff
something that hung in the air
Marvelously entertaining those
dangling before the chipped cinder blocks beneath cracked molding:
Two boys, nearly twice his size.
Somehow he was more alive
Or in control
keeping a firm grasp
of the moment at least
It seemed all this, I think,
While we stooped and struggled in our earmarked corners, half together,
Concealed by chores and chapters, caught inside rhymes of passage,
losing a little more than our height,
while inside our heads, a little more hope than hunger,
ate at the violent, mute, unheralded thing I
could not name.
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