the thing

The thing about loudgirl is she’s supposed to open her mouth. She’s not supposed to care what you hear, what you think you hear, what you used to hear, what you wish to hear again, or what you wish you would have heard the first time. That’s not important, neither are cavities, being on key, whether birds are attracted, or the boundary between ending and beginning again.

Politics! Politics, politics, politics. There’s a way to do it. Jump in feet first, wholesale into another world, with qualities like this one. Similar lighting, weather conditions, general geographic layout, north is still north, south is south. But different. Subtly. Maybe just a name, a name of a person that stood for one thing here, and something very different elsewhere. That in itself could mean utopia.

And now we find temptation. We’re tempted to the tag sentence ending, the punch line, ouch! Ooof, orangutan rendition. It destroys the stanza, the staggering effect, the stalling stiltwalking step step step from the bitter end back to the beginning. The sweetness of beginning, with its aromas of orange. The thing about loudgirl is…