Sketching in My Living Room

When I pick up a pencil
I can't help but think
of perspective & right now
I am leaning against a study
buddy, the stale save screen buzz
of the TV illuminating the room, the door
coyly ajar across from me. I make note
of things I can see without moving my eyes
too quickly, appreciating them for just what
they are, placing purpose into the ridges
of their suffocating bodies. If I were ten
these scattered possessions would lie
motionless, remnants of the battle
of boredom that seems endless, but I am not
ten & instead they breathe & wriggle
across the stained blue carpet like centipedes
attacking me with dimensions & form
& shadows & crisp lines. I no longer wish
to probe them, to experience any sensual novelty
they might offer, to learn their feel, to understand
their weight & temperature, what they might feel like
inside my mouth like when I was ten & I ate
a live daddy long legs at summer camp just to see
if his legs would clean my teeth like robotic floss
or maybe I would gain his powers & save my friends
from the unseen beast & maybe then I could have
understood love a little faster & maybe I did
gain his powers, but he was nothing
more than a lonely spider.

Reviews

[mimia7861]

Mesmerizing flow. I loved how it took a turn i wasn't expecting at all and offered a look into childhood imagination.
Really interesting work! Keep it up :)

[TLK]

This is an odd moment of mindfulness, sliding into the rich madness of a childish fantasy. The way the typography produces lines that swell and fall like an impossible ocean of mountains suits it hugely -- as if my head is on its side, looking at something familiar in a magical way.

Unsure about: " stale save screen buzz" -- I feel like I should know what a 'save screen' is.

Favourite: "I am not /ten" before you launch into the imagined visual hallucination of converging lines, the sensual possibilities of using all your faculties like an exploring baby, and the ingestion of a (potentially poisonous, if a crane fly) daddy long legs.

The last line is such a marvellous pricking of the flights of fancy that have kite-glided into a tree that I believe "lonely spider" should be the title.

[p.kuhl]

A save screen is when your screen has not been turned off in a long time and so the tv has a defense mechanism of having something move slightly so the pixels don't get burned into the screen forever. It's a weird concept, but it's meant to illuminate the idea that this room has been silent for a while, that even though the tv is on it isn't necessarily being used or watched (although I used it here for a different purpose).

I feel like the lonely spider line would lose most of its delicate weight if the reader was thinking about it the whole time. I wanted the start of this to really start from a place that many start, just doodling or sketching in a room. Where we all go from there is often a testament to where we have been and who we are, I.e. the scattered possessions described here

[TLK]

I getcha with the 'save screen' thing -- thanks for clarifying.
I can see what you mean about not wanting the reader to focus on the concept of a lonely spider.

[Emily B]

Scottie shames me, I should have been here two days ago

sublime work, rainy day or not