Archive for April, 2010

The Instrument Responds…


And who knows how I play, how I hold you

to be mysterious as music is,

brief as a summer afternoon, and blue

as Miles Davis was never, how I

am held by you, whose curled melodies sway

in me with new words. If I bend and lie

in that posture, tendering for a curve

this back upright and hollow, who will say

what heaven or hell would have been—or if


any orthodoxy could sustain that beat

of yours, could any bible give of verse

the way you give of your ambitious sweet

improvisation, & breathe into me the riff

of what you hold & only we rehearse?

Copyright Ó by William Glass


Never. Believe. Them.

This morning my mom woke me bright and early (the old cliche) and I readied for a doctor’s visit. What for, Lynsey? Well, because I have arthritis, and because I find it difficult to live with, we’ve now considered all the possible routes to good health and thus made our decision: peptides. I would rave over how wonderful and miraculous these shots are, but I’ve limited time and mental muscle, so I’ll keep it short. 

So there I sat, in a chair in a doctor’s office – not my favorite place in the world, let me tell you; I’ve spent my fair share under harsh examination lights – until the doctor came in. His nurse readied the needle and set it out on the counter. It wasn’t as large as I imagined, which was a small relief. And I figured (trying not to flex or tighten my muscles) if I overanticipated the hurt, it would in turn be less than what I expected. Well. He told me to stand and tug my jeans to just below my hipbones, swabbed the area, examined the needle-

I’ve broken a few bones – my foot and collar bone, to be exact. I’ve had some guy in the ER dig into my knee nerves with a needle. I’ve broken the skin below my big toe and not cried at all. And much more. The pain today rivals any prior pains. Or perhaps that’s just my mind speaking, and after I endure a certain amount of pain I’m prone to forgetting how much and instead am left with the ghost of a notion of the pain.

The initial pain wasn’t as bad I expected. So I thought: Oh, it’s not that bad. (How we all like to believe in the greater good.)

“Is it stinging yet?” Yes, it was. More than stinging. First a surge down my right leg, then through my buttock, and then I was grappling for balance and trying deep, even breathing. After he’d disposed of the needle and the band-aid was on my hip, I stumbled toward the seat, paying particular attention to awareness. And this is was what my mind was saying: GOOD GOD WHAT THE HECK STOP STOP STOP.

“Are you okay?” – a concerned nurse. I love that question. It’s just like the “How are you feeling” question. What do they want you to say? Oh, yeah, I’m fine – I’m limping and gripping my thigh because it’s fun.

But anyway. No NaPo yet today. As soon as I get my head back I’ll be on it.

It is, it is

Happy April 1st, NaPoWriMoers! Haven’t yet started on mine. But I will. In a little bit. After I go pick up the bedroom.


As this day winds to a close, I thought I should close this blog entry by saying, yes, I wrote a poem (Shakespearean sonnet), and, yes, it pretty much stunk, but hey, I’m taking this time for practice, not seriousness. I figure, if I use it for free-writing and implementing new elements into my style, rather than stick to the usual blase routine, my writing will be better for it.

To all of you who wrote something: good job. To all of you who spent the day desiring the desire to write something: tomorrow’s a new day.