Something about me, that’s maybe kind of funny, is my strange fascination with words. Specifically though, as the story goes, I happen to like words like “herds”. ‘Collective Nouns’, don’t you know? And they’re really the best. Like a conspiracy of ravens that’ll put you to the test. You may find it odd, but I think it delightful. And as for this story - it’s goofy and frightful.
A carnage of cigarettes had gone to my head. A split of hurdles in front of me, but I just laid in my bed. A laugh track of sitcoms played on the TV, a doldrum of reruns that could not set me free. A feedback of speakers tried to give me advice, while I sat their silent like a pew of church mice. A dearth of fine nurses sat in the wing, a paroxysm of punk rockers begged me to sing. A dark plot of playwrights tapped narratives in my head and a punchline of comedians tried to keep me from dead.
And then, oh. And then.
Faster than fast like a flurry of rapscallions, I cut through the “can’ts” and replaced them with “cans”. A freeze of detectives rushed to the scene, to figure out why and who’d been so mean. A round up of suspects pulled up from my past, but the culprit was me, even I was aghast. Yes, there had been others, a glorifying of liars, but I’d been the one who lit most of the fires.
A jump cut of music videos played in my mind, what gave me the right to have been so unkind? And then all of my demons and shadows of bad, came up to the surface like a scuttle of crabs. “Now” was the time, because there was no time for later, so I armed my dear self with a slew of exterminators.
A chorus of composers brought sound to the scene, while a blast of strong hunters took down all the mean. A wobble of antiques had started to fall while a clank of tanks ripped down all my walls. A burn of videotapes saw the whole thing while a slash of defensemen stepped into the ring. It all sounds so gruesome, was there anything left? That’s when the extended family of sociologists were put to the test.
A bevy of ladies got right to the task while a chisel of repairmen suited me with a casque. A wandering of tinkerers brought me back to the light while an execution of officers kept guard in the night.
A wheeze of joggers came to say hi. Behind them, a bale of turtles stopping by. A gratitude of juniors stood near hoping strong, that sooner than soon I’d stand where I belong. A turnaround of screenplays put things to the test, if everything worked I’d be back at my best. A diligence of messengers passed the note along, that a patter of footsteps was indeed tapping a song. A rout of snowmobiles carried the notes far to the blessing of narwhales that bathed with the stars. Their tusks were raised high and they sounded their horns - another would join the marvel of unicorns.
