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Sometimes it is a trick to solidify
thoughts as they sneak past, or the more active ones come
thrashing around, falling and breaking.
When they get shaped into words and twisted into those lines,
wrenched around to sit flat on a page,
they can't breathe
they look stiff and anxious
they wince and stutter.
I try to find words that will be comfortable there,
but not so much that they
smile so placidly from the page
they give a false impression
or, in a congregation of too many docile words,
they slip and droop to the edges of the page,
having no hooks or spikes to hold them in place.
I watch for a consistent pattern in the attachment
words that know their place and function,
words that will stay put when asked,
curlicue words that will wind and twist around their
more stable neighbors,
passionate adjectives that will edge up against a reluctant noun.
When words are found individually, they
frequently won't connect.
They have to like each other's company.
They have to see, as soon as they are fastened to the page
the glow rising.
I feel them inch against their restraints, restless,
drawn to each other and excited about their work
but most of the time they are merely hostages,
held against their will.
go back
©2007 Susan R. Gilbert
www.plasticduck.net/susangilbert
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