This is further work on the exercise we did in class last Thursday (considering I only got two sentences that day). I did it sort of like our calisthenic for tonight's class, just trying to write without really thinking about it (I'm having severe trouble with that). Anyways, my "scent" was in inside of a woman's purse:
The suburban smash of a grimy face slammed by an unexpected stop sign. The medical meshing of contaminated leather; An edge comprised of operating hands rubbed rough with oily day-to-dayness. Cluttered by the bend of cardboard. Quick pinches of Evergreen trees pulverized, mortar and pestle, against plastic silverware. Cab seats dragged across railroad tracks, hot and grainy. A prong of plastic melting on water, sunk in to a handful of taffy wrappers. A braided rope around a Hippie’s waist. The back of a hand splinter-bound to a crucifix. A streak of greenbrown dry erase maker on a child’s finger, rubbed on stone. That sound--the one of denim pulled across a burlap textured office chair--spun and thrown to tile.
I admire the word play in this piece. There are so many uniquely paired groupings that are awkward, yet, strangely familiar. When I read the coupling of “plastic” and “silverware” I laughed a little to myself because there have been many times when someone has used the term “silverware” to refer to utensils of plastic. Although it wasn’t too long ago when silver plastic ware appeared in Publix, it cracked me up. In addition to admiring the word play, I really enjoyed the images evoked by these two lines, “cluttered by the bend of cardboard” and especially, “That sound--the one of denim pulled across a burlap textured office chair--spun and thrown to tile” because these images cause other sensory to kick in. I almost felt the way I would feel if I heard “denim pulled across a burlap” when I read the line. My insides cringed, slightly. I do wonder what you could do with this if you expanded and contracted once more. Then possibly throw it in a form and see what else becomes of it.
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