Fit Part A into Part B
Some scholarship is delivered
With an instruction manual.
It demonstrates the steps
And offers a plan
To produce a (*fill in your own media),
Or at least to understand a (*fill in your own media).
The plan is called:
“The Beginning“
and
“ The End “.
What falls between
Is where the work begins
For you and for me.
My work doesn’t follow the plan
(for the most part).
It may seem like an instruction manual
Written in a foreign language.
You recognize the pieces
But remain uncertain where they go.
I make no excuse for being obtuse,
It’s just my way.
It seems there is a carnival in my head
Where nothing is as it seems,
All funhouse mirrors and tilting floors,
Naughty jets of air lifting skirts
And the siren call of popcorn,
And clowns lifted from a horror show.
I am constantly making associations
That suggest impossible leaps
And death-defying acts of derring-do.
Some are amusing and
Others are dangerous.
I fly on the trapeze without a net.
I tame exotic beasts
With only a whip and a chair.
It seems there is a carnival in my head
Clamouring for my attention.
I dare them all for the adrenaline rush
In hope that someone is behind me
And in fear that they’re not.
I try to look before I leap
But if you choose to follow,
Then be warned.
If at this point if it is not clear
That Part A fits into Part B
Then I should return to auto mechanics.
I’ve laid out a trail of breadcrumbs.
The choice to follow was yours
Not mine.
There may be a point,
There may be a moral,
There may be an opinion,
There may be a landscape or a nude,
There may be nothing at all.
When you picked up this piece
You entered into a contract with me.
I have laid the groundwork
With sufficient clues
To safely take you from here to there.
Now, I invite you to join me
As I attempt those feats
That suggest “Impossible leaps“
And
“Death-defying acts of daring-do“.
Read my work.
It’s really quite safe.
All you need do is
Fit Part A into Part B.
Really.