Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Week in Seven Words #58

Via gmail chat, a discussion of the 33rd psalm.

She laughs so merrily, so uncontrollably, that you can almost forget that she's hurt.

The hour comes. Time to put the books away.

In a bookstore cafe, against a backdrop of music and the grinding of a blender, two people argue over what makes good poetry. At a few points throughout they state the importance of taste and personal inclination, even as they dig beneath each other's feet for something else.

A crushed dreamcatcher lies at the foot of a short flight of steps leading to a drug research and rehab clinic; the net and feathers are crumpled.

Just as we think she's finished unpacking the food from the suitcase, she remembers a side pocket full of chocolatey treats.

Streams of hot cold pain run up and down my arm, shimmering in my fingers, pooling at my elbow.


John Hayes said...

Prognosis is really remarkable, & I enjoyed kibble--took me back to my graduate school days with a fond remembrance. Another strong set--hope your arm is better!

naida said...

*sigh* about inexorable.
Fantastic week in words as always.

Lucy said...

'Prognosis' is incredible, fancy allowing such a glaringly pessimistic metaphor to hang around!

A wonderful couple of weeks of words altogether, I'm always awed and humbled at how you sustain this vision.

Hope the pain in the arm gets better!

Relyn said...

I'd like to meet camouflage. What a marvelous, others-centered person she must be.