Words
I shouldn't use in poems again (or, at least at any time soon or with
too great a frequency): no more "hands", no holding,
touching, fingertips or palms flattened, no "knuckles",
although I can't think of a single poem that succeeds with
"knuckles", but aside from that, no more "branches":
tree branches, branching ideas, or ribbons of electricity through the
air, that smell of burning ozone all around you, charged, and no more
"air" for that matter, and no more "hair" for
that matter: things hide in there, or are placed, left or hidden,
accidentally or on purpose, but my purpose, if you understand that
I'm still talking about words I should stay away from, words I think
I tend to rely on to a degree that worries me, those times when I'm
placing them in the capstone spot of yet another otherwise reasonably
good, yeah, this is a poem and I'm talking about poetry in poetry and
describing words with words, using words to discuss language and
thoughts externalized through poetic cliché, an excuse to shy away
from the topic at hand, the list being revealed, or built, assembled,
or called out really, a list which lives like a glowing neon strand
of DNA (an acronym, sure, but still a word and one that I don't have
to worry about overusing) inside of me, my body, this mass of
misunderstanding, misunderstood meats and chemistry, gerunds finding
their way into this, for lack of a better comprehensive indicator, a
justification for spending ridiculous amounts of time alone typing at
some machine or other, peering with blurred eyes, burning sometimes
and usually red, at the white light of a screen, typing, and thinking
about all the words I shouldn't use in the realm of my writing, my
poetic, my work, for lack of a better...
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