Brain Jam

there are times when i sit in a stu­por at one of my mind­less col­le­giate sources of employ­ment and think about com­mu­ni­ca­tion. i think much bet­ter than i speak. oftimes i will think of a very well formed idea and then when i attempt to put it down i’m like char­lie brown try­ing to write his name; every­thing comes out smudged beyond repair, and the hard­er i try the worse it becomes. some­things just can­not be forced. last night after work was one of the rare times when some­thing i thought of actu­al­ly turned out bet­ter than i imag­ined. as i left work into the pleas­ant night air, off in the dis­tance there was a flash of light­ning and a low rum­ble of thun­der and into my mind popped the phrase ‘feed me thun­der.’ when i got back to my room i start­ed with that line and kept writ­ing. what it turned into was an open­ing admo­ni­tion for a book of spells. i guess it is pret­ty use­less in the man­ner of actu­al­ly offer­ing some­one an insight on life, but it has a ris­ing tem­po in its progress that kin­da grabs you. i think if i ever send in some stuff to a pub­lish­er, that will be the first thing in the book i’ll want him to read. its a warn­ing, a sign of cri­sis, but also a hint that if care is tak­en, under­stand­ing will be giv­en. i guess in a way, poems are spells because of the way the exact mix­ture of ingre­di­ents (words) can pro­duce some­thing with much pow­er.

per­chance this mus­ing acts as an appen­dix to the poem, or a cliff’s notes, explain­ing intent in case the spell is immune to some peo­ple.