She
said she was small and for some reason that turned me on and I cannot seem to
get turned off.
I
haven’t paid the electric bill in eons so I’ve adapted and learned to hear in
the dark like a bat or coal miner.
Sometimes
the writing comes so fast it’s all I can do to get down every word before the
inspiration passes like a passenger train moving through the undigested night.
Lyn’s
politics hits me right between the eyes and that’s okay because too many people
don’t know how to formulate a thought or do and refuse to spill the refried
beans.
She
put me in my place and after doing so didn’t block me which made me smile from
ear to cauliflower ear because her skill at communication is second to none and
when she sighs it puts me right back there in the cartoon dust.
We
begin as either chickens or eggs depending on who and what you choose to
believe in. I’ve learned to hedge my bets early and do not take my chosen
status for granted.
Lyn’s
intellect leaves me wanting as all great intellects should. I may not agree
with what she says, but the way she says it drives me into seditious fits of execrable
rage.
I’m
impatient, impertinent and irascible to the Granny Smith core and I’ll either learn
to play well with others or will continue to live a life of isolation and insubordination.
When
she called me on my shit I knew the jig was up and if I didn’t want to lose
this Flaming Torch I best get my shit together and stop pushing so many
unnecessary buttons.
She
informed me I wasn’t out of her league which blew my mind six ways to Sunday
and proved to me, once and for all, I don’t know as much as I thought I did.
Charles Cicirella
9/20/16 
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