Tag Archives: May

Let’s build an arch, shall we?

Inspired by the weather and today’s Daily Prompt.

Pt I: the status quo (aka: is it time to build an arch yet?)

Jack’s been occupying my iPod for about two weeks now. For some reason, his lyrics and his ukulele are the only things that keep my spirits (relatively) high as I constantly keep my head as low as possible, trying to duck out of the rain and into the hood of my rain jacket.

The entire May’s been a huge fraud in terms of the weather. If you ask me, this year’s May wouldn’t even pass for a third-rate April any other year – but of course, no one asks me; in the end, I just have to put up with it and mutter to myself in discontent.

In a crazy attempt to be less cynical and more optimistic in general, I’ve also been trying to adopt Jack’s attitude: The world has its ways to quite us down, the world has its ways, to quiet us down comes the rain, down comes our spirits again; but down comes the strength, to lift us up and then… Sounds good, doesn’t it? Naturally, in theory this is much easier than in practice.

 

Pt II – a very short short story, (kind of) based on real events, I swear! (aka it’s definitely time to build an arch now, jeez …)

Are you gonna dress up? She asked; I think, it’s too cold. I thought about it for a second, imagining myself wedged into a way too tight black dress, freezing my ass off, and my spirits made a loud clattering noise as they hit the floor. I probably won’t, I said.

Not only had winter apparently decided to stop by for a surprise visit in late May, the entire afternoon had been nothing but a blurry drizzle – although a look into the sky did promise a change in weather soon: it looked like the evening might well end in a sudden downpour, followed by thunder and lightning. It was definitely the best time for an outside activity (especially, when it’s not suitable to show up in your hiking gear but to make matters worse, you’re supposed to look nice).

We met at the foot of the bridge; both bundled up in (roughly estimated) fifty layers of clothing, each armed with an additional raincoat and umbrella. We might have looked like the Morton Salt twins – if we’d been more chipper.

when it rains, it pours - damn right, it does, Morton Salt Girl!

when it rains, it pours – damn right, it does, Morton Salt Girl!

We made our way to the rest of the group: they’d already sat down at one of the tables that were set out under a huge gazebo-like tent. We ordered two glasses of beer and two huge entrees (vegetarian, because I am and, thankfully she’s great and doesn’t mind) – might as well treat ourselves, we thought.

Just like most of the restaurants of the area, they brought half the things we ordered sprinkled with diced, fried bacon on top (or a similar extra-vegetarian treat). The beer was good, though, so we ordered a second round, hoping the rain would eventually stop.

It never did, of course.

 

Pt III – some pictures instead of more words (aka I’m gonna shut up about the rain now, promise).

 

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Go (Mid-May).

A song and a poem. That’s really all.

 

 

 

Watch those horses

fathers tell their daughters

spruced in Sunday dresses;

so calm and clean,

their necks bending in red bridles

as they go and go

(and you along with them).

 

Watch those horses

fathers tell their daughters

with their pink-ribboned hair;

sweet and smooth as a newborn.

It smells of popcorn and sweat (it’s Mid-May),

and they go and go and go –

the fair is in town.

 

Watch those horses –

I watch those horses;

Once a year, every year.

Sometimes when it’s spring,

I’ve almost forgotten about them,

but as April turns into May

the smell of popcorn fills the air and

 

I hear wooden hooves (and your voice).

 

Watch those horses –

I watch those horses

as they come and go

(and you along with them):

sweet and smooth as a newborn.

The fair is back in town

(and it doesn’t let me go –

 

go, go).

 

 

Horses, as they go.

Horses, as they go.

Drunk In A Midnight Choir

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