For RoM 07 - #1/9 Clutch and Choke

Some made up genre.

I had come a long way to claim what will be mine. It’s an orphan’s prize and don’t expect any competition. A long distance so far. Seems more than half way, but I’m doubting that. The beginning lies somewhere on a horizon that does not look like this one lying before me. Calm is the line that separates way off on the horizon. No blips or bleeps.

But this has been the year of the rough draft. Rough as in cold pressed, spray glued, and sand tossed on. Beginning every project on shaky, uneven, rough ground. The inklings get massaged to rise like cream or sinking like rock into the turbulent depth where they become unretrievable. But, being down below - like grit the chickens eat - formless concepts will be silently bumping into other. Hidden unforeseeable ideas, working themselves clean and smooth. Next season there will be smooth river rocks, that life passes and meanders around easily. Rocks having paid the price by being born a chip from a large granite stone, and traveled into perfection.

I want the energy to run smooth; a steady, slow burn. Not the noxious fumes that are apparent with the start up and subsequent even-out of a clutch and choke. I want the slow burn of not running too hot, but never sitting long enough to gather cold.

Today I have given up being annoyed by tiny threads and miss spellings.

 It is one of those smoke sky cloudy days. You can't see the sun traveling so it remains a vague daytime until it is dark enough to be called night.


  1. i sense the passage through time in this, but the final bit is a bit of poetry that rests pleasantly on my mind. I think i'll say it aloud to the only ones around here who can hear it. My dog and i

  2. Truly a river of Mnemosyne. Nice and subtle. I'm not too keen on the way "horizon" is used in two sentences in a row. Interrupts the flow of an otherwise extremely flowing piece. :)

  3. Sounds slightly biographical. And yes, for you a particularly flowing piece.