Tuesday, August 11, 2009

the sad side of Words
by Erica Mazzeo

the sad side of words
make themselves clear
in a frenzy.

eg. Running to meet each other in the parking lot
the woman yells, "I love you!"
and the man slowly backs
away in the spring rain.

For the poised and meticulous
there are not really any
sad sides -
just structured statements without any fancy bows.

I easily screamed, "I hate you!" to
my mother when I was
eights years old - now the sad
side of words point out -it's too late to go back and clean it up-

"Are you crazy?" I confront the
sad side of words
but they
just ignore me.

Carolers came around singing,
"We wish you a merry christmas!"
The sad side then threw in, "oh!
and a happy new year!"

They are wasted letters,
untimely alphabetical deaths
- too overlapping in their careless nature,
and too much.

My cat seems to understand when she
negotiates the overuse of
her "Me-oW"

Still, "this is the most delicious dessert
in the entire world!" is a delectable utter.
or "I miss you so much that it hurts!"

"He's brilliant" the sad side exclaims
about Einstein's theorems. How predictable,
and presumptuous I think to myself but
I've learned to keep it in.

The sad side reminds me, like an old
sage with a pointed nose (looking down),
that all of the, "i love you"s, the
"i never meant to hurt you"s,
the questions like "what do you want for lunch?"
right down to the
classic, "will you marry me?"
are superfluous necessity.
Yet I wouldn't revoke any of them even if
I had a second time around

- and knowing that,
running past the words,
the dictionary of "give up" -
pushing over the thesaurus and
easily manipulating the antidote of blank space.

"Please will you write me?"
chasing my love down in the fog once again
and the sad side nearby tapping
foot on the sidewalk,
nodding in disappointment at me,
"you'll never get it, will you?"

I pull away from each adjective,
rip myself from each noun, verb and
"whatever" I
whisper, "your lacking leaves something
to be desired" I shoot back
to the sad side
and pull my sweatshirt hood up
over my head
turning my back to walk away.

1 comment:

scherbi said...

we convey meaning
but not always
what is meant

we delight and confuse
we soothe and
sometimes torment

you use us freely
we ask of you neither
gratitude nor cent

we are the words
we are the language
we are spent