A Bolt Out of the Blue

by | Jan 14, 2021 | January 2021 Writing | 8 comments

All of this polyglot ramshackle in the stern underpinnings I keep my tongue. The forecast is looming, an act turned into the name of its machine. How stars turn to undoing us, a dropped stitch gone supernova. A needlepoint sampler is all I have left. A grandmother’s compulsory instructions to herself and generations of girls. Keep them safe as nimble fingers forget the use of a thimble. Blood rubies thinning skin stalwart as Jupiter’s eye.

The gap I can’t traverse, the finials of a capital V keeping void for your name. I lie down on one side and wait for it to fill with water that I may swim. By how wide so deep. I finger my sextant to puzzle the horizon. Anyhow, don’t be the tallest thing in a storm. Maybe what I’d crochet for inside a door. So profane. Metal glints to itself under a cloak. The old ones witness change without perspective.

A shelter is a thing that is not able to anymore, a warm quilt staving off a train’s advance. Numbness rumbles unilaterally. Generations of paint flake off a hollow word. I’m not close to stroke grandmother’s right cheek, slack as forgotten dough. She says, there’s a wall that has no use for me anymore. I can’t think of it.

8 Comments

  1. Meg Tuite

    SARA!!! Absolute amazement moving through your soulmass-bliss arrangement of language! Read this aloud and reminiscent of the best of Djuna Barnes. DAMN!! “All of this polyglot ramshackle in the stern underpinnings I keep my tongue.” KILLER! ‘polyglot ramshackle!’ ‘stern underpinnings’ ‘I keep my tongue.” Together this creates chaos and silence (but in the stern underpinnings). No way to protect. Grandmother has the signs on needlepoint samplers. And now how to survive? Grandmother doesn’t have that wall anymore, ‘slack as forgotten dough’.
    Every line creates its own vision. “Generations of paint flake off a hollow word.” This is a masterpiece! I’ve read it over and over, the depth of looking back and ahead; “Anyhow, don’t be the tallest thing in a storm. Maybe what I’d crochet for inside a door.”
    The multi-generational protectors that don’t protect: “a warm quilt staving off a train’s advance.” “The old ones witness change without perspective.”
    And that last line: “I can’t think of it.”
    This is remarkable! Please send it out! LOVE!!!

    • Sara Comito

      Thank you, Meg!!! Talking with everyone by Zoom last weekend really helped me feel part of something and stitch me into some kind of focus. As I said before that, I felt a little unmoored. And after Dominique’s workshop I have a lot of energy. Hope to keep it going.

  2. Constance Malloy

    Sara, I’m sitting here stunned. This piece moves beyond something I can’t quite put my finger on, but it transported me, and I’m not quite the same as I was before I started reading it. The line that so silenced me, “The old ones witness change without perspective.” What this line implies about the past, realizes about the present, and foretells of the future for all those who have, do, and will move among these “old ones” is breathtaking. I would say more, but I’ve been humbled. Thanks for sharing.

    • Sara Comito

      Thank you, Connie! Doubly lucky to be here with you and in Dominique’s workshop. I hope you feel energized as I do.

  3. David O'Connor

    Sarah, what a great piece, I feel it’s fresh and new and so good. Are you turning a corner? The beginning is so strong and full of energy–the storm! This is my fav–Anyhow, don’t be the tallest thing in a storm. And–Generations of paint flake off a hollow word. Not sure of the last 5 words, I think they kinda deflate the impact. Great title. Wondering about the you at the start of para 2… but it’s good to wonder. This a whirlwind, a pleasure to read, a new storm(–also I’m a sucker for anything nautical. Sex/tant is my new favorite word. Love it!

  4. John Steines

    Sara…This phrase told me we were going somewhere very different: ‘…a dropped stitch gone supernova’. I’d already fallen into the phrasing of the first 3 sentences, like they are a spell unraveling, feeling a shift into a nether world. The sentences flow, growing subtly. I couldn’t stop my reading. I felt pulled into, wanting to go along. Such a lovely and strong piece. Thank you. John

  5. Suzanne van de Velde

    Sara – how riotous and seductive.There are many near-elusive joys here.I love
    “how stars turn to undoing us, a dropped stitch gone supernova” it seems to point to our fate. Looking forward to reading more of your work!

  6. jennifer vanderheyden

    My goodness, Sara…this is a bolt of inspiration! You were in a zone! One of my favorite lines: “Blood rubies thinning skin stalwart as Jupiter’s eye.” I have no suggestions other than to send it out! Thanks for sharing this.

Submit a Comment

Pin It on Pinterest