Force the first

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She says to herself,

‘Go with the first thought’

And watches her hand as she writes that down.

There was almost an italics catastrophe, with the L wanting to preemptively,

Grammatically grotesquely,

turn itself straight into an F,

Respectively,

But she knows hersef…

Self.

Self-reflection on Sundays,

Plays chilled tunes and turns all chat to off.

Off clicks the jug,

She scuffs snug sheepskin slippers past the sink

And drinks down caffeine forced creativity.

Go with the first thought,

which was singularly,

solely

and only just that.

What’s next?

Go with the next thought I guess.

Which is….

 

Chairs in circles.

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I set up chairs in circles and hang things on walls.

I sprawl Big Books across cushions and step

One,

Two,

Three up to 12 I fall into place as I space out the cups from the coffee and tea,

I see …

People coming through doors broken,

I see and hear spoken sadness and silent success…

Yes,

I see

You.

I ask that we desire and confide, that we share and air what’s happening inside,

Inside us…

Inside here.

That, if we need to, we crawl!

We crawl through these doors, where all the chairs are set up in circles and where things hang on walls.

I see you,

Sit here.

Tea for Tarns.

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The teaspoon was wet

So she got more sugar than needed.

The tea towel was dirty

So the plates permeate the scent of old flesh.

Refresh the page,

Stay awake.

 

The teacup was chipped

So she got lipstick in ceramic.

The teetotaller was tipsy

So she knew she was dreaming.

Theming the narrative,

Comparative,

Stay alive.

 

The tea cart was wobbly

So she got stuck turning corners.

The teapot was lidless

So she poured only cold water.

Slaughter the syllables,

Edit the drivel,

Stay steeping.

 

Jigsordid

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We deserve to have someone that fits in nicely against us

like an adjoining jigsaw puzzle piece.

They can be part of the picture in this scene of our existence!

A corner of a tree in the background;

A slightly bluer part of the sky,

or maybe that obscure bottom part of a waistcoat with a floral print which shows the part- ponytail of the redhead that’s standing next to the mule…segment.

But.

Most jigsaw puzzles are simply made from assembling similar shapes that can interlock…

Remember, this is cut from a generically designed template.

We complete many of these“Fun For The Whole Family!”, ages 2 and up, sprawled across the board atop the dinner table so now everyone eats in the lounge on their laps by the fire, winter indoor entertainment boxes of 1000+ jigsaws in our lifetime…

It’s ok if some pieces aren’t flush;

It’s ok if there seems to be a piece missing,

(It’s not missing)

It’s ok if the cardboard has lifted from the knobbly bit that sticks out and into another piece,

And of which that piece also has cat teeth indents upon,

We will fit the pieces that fit for us

When we know what scene we want to see.

:TELLECTRONIC:

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A quiz suggested I live in France because love is important to me in life.

YouTube recommends a 15 minute Tibetan singing bowl meditation to unwind,

Ghost Adventures Season 8, Episode 3,

& a Trap Nation remix of an already acoustically covered pop track on a 1 hour loop.

Facebook notifies me that 5 events I’m interested in are starting soon,

that I was tagged in 2 shared memories from 6 years ago,

that my video is ready to view

& that there have been 4 comments on a comment I commented on that got 9 likes.

My phone battery icon wears a shade of 12% orange

and my laptop dims and switches to energy saver mode.

The alarm tells me I should leave in 37 minutes,

It’s

11.11 –

……. Make a wish……

When is there ever time to just take time?

Because time takes away every spare minute up until death

and that guy is the ultimate moment remover.

The Niggles.

niggle

I like picking at things.

Stuck bits of food on bedding,

Shedding sheets of salt ‘n peppered cat hairs,

– individually –

Continuously taking the tops off scabs,

Jabs fingers into corners of eyes, pulling out long strands of pupil goo.

Visceral – Like a thin wet string of seagull poo,

Do I eat it…?

No, eww.

I just like picking at things.

Such as the way you arrange the dishes on the rack.

The stack of magazines in the loo,

Again,

Ewww.

You get on my nerves, so this deserves a probing;

Bathrobes on door handles,

One jandal mixed between all the other shoes, then,

…the other jandal.

Can’t handle when at 6am you start the sequence of snooze,

I choose to get affected,

These are my irritations.

But, there is also some elation;

like pulling a random hair from your head

That’s somehow managed to lodge up your bum.

Feeling horrified but mesmerised,  

squeamishly delighted all at the same time…

Kinda gross, kinda nice.

I like picking at things.

Blue-tac and price tags,

Loose threads on handbags,

Grammatical errors and your use of ‘you are’ without apostrophe r e….*

The wrongly placed  E, I before C,

Cutlery in the sink,

Half-finished drinks left cold on the floor,

The way you sound when you snore,

Your awful choice of décor,

Your boring obsession with folklore,

and ‘The War…’

The way you swore at that old wh…dinosaur in Arty Bee’s bookstore,

Uncalled for!

You’re…

annoying.

Which is probably why I’m always picking at things!

Exploring ways in which to

purposefully pull you apart.

I’ll start learning how to live with these niggles and irks and quirks of life,

Calm that OCD driven housewife that resides inside of me…

I’ll stop picking at things

and just let them be.