Roughing (ralphing) a Draft

Bare Bones and Synapses : Oscillating (a Story)

Feel like I’ve been out of the game…aside from Friday Fictioneers I haven’t had time for concocting, playing and revising original texts for awhile…feeling this time opening up a little bit I’ll be trying to finish up some long-term projects, while also working out some ideas that have been swaying to and fro in me cranium…here’s a gutturally wrenched structure that I barfed up today…we’ll see what becomes of it…

 

#1 perks up, signaling  “it’s about time something truly great were written…at least what we’re capable of writing…the best we can do, right now.”

#2, energized by this, by the vibe that the entire gang might be on board, the whole shebang ready to summon resources and operate, sync up, as it were, breathlessly quivers, smiling shyly, eager

#3 promptly curls over and balks, doubts, folds under, clenches.  Mostly afraid of failure, or of not having what it takes to see this thing through – concoct something “great” – shimmies and blocks out, switches off the snaps and veils the crackling lights in nearest hallways

#4 is feeling good, having been freed to excesses in the night, sensing the throbbing in the basement and burning like a reptile in the sun, pleased and exotic, inspiring

#7 with pleasurable visions of fantasies and victory.  Floodlights on, matched to #4’s bask, but also pulling in air, rolling back shoulders and drawing up the chest while sucking in the tummy

#5 babbling away nondescript utterances, filterlessly spilling data, codes and equations of plots, prose and characters grabbed here and there from the crooks and crannies, gutterways and mushy sewage-scapes like pebbles stuck in gluey glia.

#1 now boisterous and bellowing, carried away in surges, blurting out hurrahs and coach-cliches, beckoning a kind of connective huddle

If #4 could think alone, he’d claim erotic inception for the will of #1, having woken aroused by images spun from #7 throughout their “sleeping” 8Hz

But #1 is wanting more and #3 isn’t giving or opening up

#6 and #7 providing soundtracks and scenarios, pressuring #4 to kick up the heartbeat, #2 to activate arms and hands

Four of the seven are joined, yawping and dipping, rippling a recursive wave – this group is on the move

#4 sends chills down the surface and tingles spine and loins

#2 adjusts all openings, focusing on bright lights and sparkly things, deep greens and muted blues

#4 pounds “approach” and “happy” buttons like timpani

#6 starts sweat and shuffles memory volts of breezes

#3 begins to forget as #5 yammers and badgers and #4 jacuzzies the mass in hot syrups

#1 commands #2 to to focus, clip and edit #5, while #6 and #7 distract with many-colored bouncing balls

Optimally they’ll link up and ride this wave in balance – each informing the other – shocking, supporting and inspiring the murky mass trapped in 22 inches of bone.

                          

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7 thoughts on “Roughing (ralphing) a Draft

  1. Interesting and … anxious–a mark of our times. This has nothing to do with your piece, but I was reading about Hart Crane today, and how it took him 8 years to write THE BRIDGE. His drinking was pretty bad near the end, and it’s somewhat of a miracle that he finished it at all.

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"A word is a bridge thrown between myself and an other - a territory shared by both" - M. Bakhtin

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