This makes, I think, ten sets of Verse. I am now out of words to play with, and am left with a decision to make. I can either re-jumble all the words I have here and start a new set of verses or I can try to find some new Fridge poetry sets to work with.
I wanted to have twenty poems when I tried to set this book to print. I am halfway there. So, I must do one or the other of those things.
The simpering sentimentalist in me does not want to destroy the poems assembled on the side of the fridge. As Stephen King said, we don’t want to kill our darlings. They are lovely, in a way; and they are art. But I have photos of them-is that not the same?
And they are conversation starters for dinner guests and friends who come over…when we have friends over.
I think what I like most about them is they are REAL. At least, they are as real as words can be. They are tactile, solid, gritty, dirty, and there. Some of them stick to the fridge better than others…are they better words?
I broke down and set up an Apple Music account two days ago. I’d resisted, for years, not because I didn’t want to pay the ten bucks a month to have access to every song in the Universe. I’d resisted because some part of me clings to the idea of ownership and reality that comes part and parcel with having the songs and artists in my iTunes library be there because I put them there. They came off CDs that I own and can go to and look at and play in the six-disk CD changer I haven’t used in ten years. They are, as much as songs can be, more REAL than music I do not own.
In this world of rising detachment from the REAL, increasing time spent interacting with “friends” via the virtual social media “reality,” and the accompanying decline in a sense of appreciation for the manifestations of human emotions…the love that becomes a song, or a poem, or a kiss, or a rose sitting on a desk to remind the receiver how much the giver can’t find their breath without them…
I just really want to leave this collection of feelings in as real a condition as possible. Maybe she will look at them sometime and think…”My baby loves me so much he filled a whole side of the fridge with it!”
Here’s the last verse for round one-one way or another: