today, as the sky is blue & there is a contrail slowly blooming from the impossible shot-put of a jet far off, a fly comes in, makes the sign of paisley and, apparently, leaves again. i am in slow motion. see the fly swooping through another surveillance turn at the edge of my periphery & feel unconcerned. the window is as open as a missing wall. the proper world will reel him back out. he will hear the same bird calls that i do, and join them, without any particular ambition.
i, on the other hand, will count on ambition today, to make a full story of the fact of verbs. the verb, in french, is a most complex key – take your own keys out & examine them. notches, ridges, cuts & grooves… imagine all of your keys welded together – something that would make the shape of an asterisk if pressed, nose down, into silly putty. this is the french verb, which, when fit into the keyhole of a text & turned, unlocks two worlds at once: time & comprehension.
what, in a sentence, can we live without? poet or philosopher or first grade teacher… answer with me, for simplicity’s sake: we must have a subject and a verb.
100 word challenge. write a story in sentences structured: subject verb. here’s an example:
door opens. i enter. elevator moves. i exit. door opens. sun shines. dog barks. car rolls. i walk. woman smiles. plants sway. bus arrives. people board. bell dings. shopkeeper sweeps. (30 words)
phew… exhausting, isn’t it.
ok, now i have to go study for my exam, give time to the fact of verbs, the objects they take, the modes they express, the timeline they give form to, the delightful magical magic of a thing misnomered conjugation in the rightful place of complex communication.