Thursday, June 12, 2014

Hella Good

Duplicate. Sometimes you like to duplicate...

I like to replicate. 

Rhyme slow. Rhyme quick.

Still replicate.

Other people still like to duplicate.

I replicate. He duplicates.

What do you do?

Here's a short one... About seeing things two ways.

Kisses, m.



“Good. Is that what the sign says? Come now, young man be a love and tell me.”

“Ma’am, that’s exactly what it says. Good. Well what do you think about that?”

“Good is what I tell George when he says that he understands. He’ll be sitting there on the porch swing listening to me talk about nothing. Sure enough whenever I finish a bit of gossip that man, bless his heart, he tells me I see. Most of the time my yarn is a matter of complete nonsense that he simply does not want to hear, but he’ll listen and nod my way. So clearly I can see the tilt of his head and a smirk upon his mouth in my mind right now. And funny but that’s the first thing I think of. And you, what do you find yourself thinking?”

“Something about the sign reminds me of when I was a small boy. My mother used to have me wash the laundry and hang it on the line. Whenever I was standing up on the patio chair, she would say “good” while I hung. For some reason that’s what my mind conjures from memory. And it wasn’t always good. In fact those days weren’t perfect when I remember them. Often my tiny hands would fumble. Fingers would find themselves dropping the close pins over and over. Sometimes I would even drop a sheet or two into the mud. Soiled and my mother continued to smile and nod. No matter if I soiled the sheets, she would always tell me the same thing, 'Good.'”

“Well, you know what they say?

“No. What is that?”

“There’s nothing better than a good sign.”

“And that’s a good one?”

“You know what I can’t think of any sign better than that.”


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