The words come and go,
slip, slide, collide on the page,
scattered about.
Sometimes there’s some order
that has intention (or not),
predicting a future,
recalling the past,
perhaps waiting in the here and now
to be discovered later
or put away, saved
for a special moment.

The words arrive,
unsure of origin or purpose,
to inspire,
to ponder,
to just be!

But they come
visiting at unexpected times,
or just in time
to be placed on paper
(or not),
spoken softly or shouted,
giving sanity to otherwise
unexplained phenomena
or bringing order to a room
or world dismantled
by something that has
or has not happened.

The words come,
making sense of a day past,
allowing us to make space
for another day,
unraveled, filled
with whatever it is
that brings the words
to the places we reside
that can not yet be described!


Janet Cormier is a painter, writes prose and poetry, and performs comedy. JC prefers different and original over pretty. She loves collecting stuff, but cleaning not so much. Janet also talks to strangers. A lot. Her column appears weekly on Oddball Magazine.