Wednesday, September 22, 2010

On The Playground

the first rule of fight club is you don't talk about fight club


Sometimes your feelings overwhelm you. Joy or agony, you might not be able to tell for sure. All yo know is you are in the grip of something against which you've got no defenses. Sometimes the best way to fight them is to surrender.


But sometimes when you surrender you get your ass handed to you.


Maybe it's better to go down swinging.


I go round after round with my own stubbornness, my laziness, my pointless anxieties, my half-finished plans. I fight till I'm bloody and other times I won't step in the ring. You might have to come to the locker room and drag me out, or maybe I high-tailed it out to the nearest saloon.

I ain't all I expect of myself.  I know it.

I fall short.


My guess is that everyone feels the same at times, and that includes the people I think are all squared away, kicking life in the teeth and sipping champagne.

But I harbor my own doubts about this conjecture.


What I know is that even a busted human usually feels better just by going outside for a while.

It works for me.


The world is a flat-out wonder.





Anonymous Anonymous said...

It is a wonder - and going outside, smelling the air, finding the big dipper, settles everything down and lifts everything up.


6:41 PM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


Full moon and the first day of fall! No wonder there is a kind of sparkle in the air.

I thank you for settling things down and lifting everything up.



7:16 PM  
Blogger Elisabeth said...

The world is a flat out wonder. Thanks for reminding us, Dishwasher.

10:39 PM  
Blogger Radish King said...

I read this and I thought about something and of course it is probably the wrong thing but I thought about it and I thought maybe I should write it that I have been in fights I mean you know I have with my fists and I wonder how many or the poets I know especially women have been in fights you know fight fights and I thought probably not many probably not many at all and how much how severely I did not like it AT ALL and the circumstances surrounding all those fists and that you know you do but probably not many people who read at least my blog. Where was I? Ah the moon and its power. And the weird wide world. And the things we have seen. And how you keep the lip of it tilted and honest.

I like writing here because I feel comfortable I think you get it. Not many people in my circle however wide get it. My brother does but that's about it.

Which is to say love to you Tearful. I am lucky I found you.


7:26 AM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


You're welcome!

9:03 AM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...


I think not getting in enough fistfights is what is wrong with 99.99% of poets, so good on you for the bloody noses and scraped knuckles!

Billy Collins never got in a fight in his life, and boy can you tell. Simic and Levine probably scrapped every other day, and I'll bet Dugan even hit girls.

Thank you for your friendship. Its way better than microwaved tofu with BBQ sauce!

9:07 AM  

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