Sunday Whirl 85

first I like to type out all the words to feel what's there, and have a list to cross out so I know which ones I've used:  affair wax forlorn manic clash hewn sand desire find fuse drive fork.


this time, I thought I might try grouping the words to see if any of them seemed to work together for me - here's is what I came up with:

desire forlorn affair manic clash

drive fork

fuse wax sand

hewn


I left 'find' out altogether, and I didn't figure it out until after I finished the poem (which is heavily formatted and may be destroyed when I hit 'publish', we'll see):


this desire, this...

                           forlorn affair -

manic clash that drives them,

like the time she had set a candle in a dish of sand,

and it had melted all the way down.

she drove a fork into the fusion of wax and sand

'to save her bowl', she told him.

but he would find, in the way she worried the utensil

                           back and forth, back and forth

that her need to compartmentalize simply, everything

was hewn directly from her ancestral tree,

and would worry him

                            back and forth, back and forth

until he split -

                        like the bowl,

torn asunder

            by the force of her desire.


and finally, to change the eighth line from 'but he saw, in the way she worried...' to 'but he would find, in the way she worried...' and I'm done!  fun.  I like the way that one rolled out - oh, but now there's still the formatting issue to check when I preview/publish the post, so...

...looks good.  linking up and commenting, then going to make the rounds.  oy, Monday...too bad I feel like crap and just want to go back to bed, because I simply can't.  too much to do, holidays approach!  lots to get done!  more more more!  aaahhh!!!