School Spirit - by Matt Moseman
Matt Moseman May 17, 2009 at 2:50PM
Nay! She wears not Wal-Mart wings
affixed so fakely via dubious spandex stretch,
the wings of the fair maiden mine
are inside her fragility of spirit and an
awe-inspiring delicacy of touch style laid back soul,
soft enough to not need shoes and float above the floor
causing only the most elegant dust to rise behind
and remain locked in terpsichorean swarf-swirls
inaudibly proclaiming undying loyalty even as they settle
lightly and with grace befitting the wake of my
meandrous Erisian vision of lawless beauty;
my flawlessly gallivanting famulus to whom
I owe my senses of hope and of wonder.
All around us every day
papery ideas are folded fifty flimsy ways
and wires are worked into vicious tangles sure
to afflict and victimize some compulsive conscript
with the gaumless cruciform task of reverting entropy—
we may stow away however, knowing never
to drop into fastidious inveiglings of
obstruent academic abstractions that lack humanity.
Rather we relish a soundless thunder-crack
secreted away under table where our hands hold
as others undertake frenetic labors to grow old
and to expunge unspent passions they hide
in finicky bursts gossip and in remote PC directories
filled with vicarious debauchery isolated from what
is to be generally considered real life.
Together
fluttering vivacious fullness into less-lit recesses
off apathetic halls congested uncaringly not seeing
the preliminary smackings of our lips and
painstakingly stragglers swallow envy as
we writhe together from toe to tongue proudly.
We walk together past those who,
alone in loneliness suspend themselves in a laborious
unfeeling limbo to lucubrate academic gruel
which is only a relief in its almost infinite
distance from the idea of another warm body
with another beating heart and savory parts
for more efficient expenditure of bottled up sex
power than chemistry, economics, and calculus
one after another, me and my fairy gnosis
trick is to put our things together and not
allow the enumeration of staid factoids and figures
to dominate and take precedence over
the impulse to elucidate the longing for
another sympathetic soul which underlies
an impetus of the making of love in more
ways than you can utilize a syllogism,
in at least as many positions as an electron can take,
with as much resolve as Washington crossing the Delaware,
with more energy than a freshman physical education class,
more unruly glee than a troublemaker blowing off detention,
and for the first time a truly naked love of learning.
Reader Comments (11)
help! i wonder what that is about?
That was really good. And this why, the lack of punctuation, it has a really nice easy going flow to it, kind of like when you're watching a movie and two people are present in the moment, but still out of it and the rest of the scene fads to black.
I kind of saw two people going through a day together, maybe kids in school who are in a relationship together, and this is the male counterparts account of his lady friend.
The only part that didn't mesh and kind of through me off as unnecessary, was the PC part. Maybe save that for another day, because it will pull your reader too far off the path, they might not want to/can get back on.
By the by, it's nice to a post from you Matt.
Choice stuff, Matt Moseman. I'm super-pleased that you are posting your work here at After Literature. I hope that you will consider having a Portfolio with us.
I found this writing vividly visceral and mentally exciting, achieving both the base and the elevated together, a juxtaposition which I particularly relish. The roiling tempo kept me racing to the very end, and I observed myself jumping back to read again what I had just read, followed by a start-over with the whole, now trying to go far more carefully, yet still wanting to race on for the taste of that "unruly glee". I like it when a piece does that.
Particular favourites:
repetition of "together"
"elegant dust"
"my senses of hope and of wonder"
"Rather we relish a soundless thunder-crack
secreted away under table where our hands hold
as others undertake frenetic labors to grow old"
"painstakingly stragglers swallow envy as
we writhe together from toe to tongue proudly."
And the ending is delightfully stacked to a pinpoint of eye-closing poignancy.
Scores of adverbs notwithstanding, this is an exciting, rewarding read. The end lines are especially satisfying and while not exactly tying things up in a neat bow, at least suggest a kind of acceptance or contentment on the part of the speaker.
It is, perhaps, a little repetitive in parts and the pace might be better sustained with some trim here and there. One example being the end of S1 which I found to drag.
Thanks for a good read and ditto Shari-Lyn's suggestion that you open a portfolio.
B.
i lost my concentration.
i cried "uncle" halfway through
and was undecided as to whether i should loop back
or eat my lunch.
it's spinach salad today.
Very perceptive Erika, this was my one year anniversary present to my girlfriend. You would call her a high school sweetheart probably.
I thought so, nice gift, hope it went over well.
indeed it did
I think this one is ready to move to your portfolio Matt. Let me know and I will move it.
B.
~
Matt, are you going to make any changes, or do you wish this moved to your portfolio as is?
I'm through with this bitch. freeze it in carbonite(yes--portfolio). this bitch and I have not spoken in months. Ever since she accused me of being cursed with none of love but self love, and I countered by explaining that she merely had "a primitive conception of love". then her father threatened to sue my parents because they knew we were fucking in the house, and for the last couple months of the 1.5 year relationship, i was no longer a minor. she and her friends have spread the calumny that I have herpes around my home town, but thankfully no one believes them and more thankfully it is not true.