You try your best to make language fit the purpose of your usage; smooth the edges or square the lines, if only to communicate. But sometimes language falters. One purpose of using words: to smooth what's tangled, bring what's shadowy to light. But more than sometimes, language falters. Or in your clumsiness, speech stumbles. You want to see what's tangled in shadow. Questions are a place, perhaps, to start. But in your clumsiness, speech stumbles. Also, those who might have the answers to such questions are long gone from this place. In that case, words try to remember words once used by those who might have answers. Intention or chance; slow burn or lightning strike— In either case, you try to remember the words: their purpose, their usage, their rough and smooth. Intention or chance, slow burn or lightning strike— You're only trying to make the language fit.
Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
