Tuesday, 5 April 2016

lost for words, 5th April 2016

where do all the words go when we say we're lost for words?..... is there some huge word pit someone under our feet we fail to see, or is there a word-catcher who sneaks around sneakily grabbing word from the tips of our tongues and the edge of our lips?.......... I imagine one day I'll walk around a corner and suddenly there they'll be, one huge rotting pile of decaying words slowly but surely becoming compost, leaching into the soil to be taken up by the roots of trees eventually to be trapped in leaves until they're respired into the air becoming cirrus, alto and stratocummulus, altostratus and cirrus, cumulus, cumulus, cumulonimbus nimbly accumulate and propagate, infiltrate them emanate tumbling, tipping, toppling from the sky making puddles and puddles in which we paddle and paddle absorbing a plethora of words through our toes that filter their gravity-way all the way to our heads and mouths for us to use or abuse or simply so carelessly lose.......... don't bother looking down the back of the sofa, that space is full with missing pens and pennies........... the moral of this tale?....... there isn't one, except perhaps when you're lost for words maybe go stand barefooted in a puddle and if anyone asks just tell them you're soaking up some words to replace the ones you lost........ they won't look at you strange..... much........

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