Ode to an Easy Chair (prose)

I have not written in a while. Not much of anything. Haven’t been writing out the bills. Haven’t been writing vitriolic rants to the Washington Post. Haven’t written to my mother. It was too hard to write in the throes of construction. Bad lighting and stacks of boxes, dust and disgust.

But all of that is going to change. I got a new easy chair. It’s a Laz-y Boy. $550 of rockin’ and reclinin’. And now I am determined that it will be the impetus for me to pick up the pen, or the laptop in this case, and put ideas into words and then into print.
So here I sit in my new living room in my new easy chair, poppin out prose that is probably a waste of electrons.

So here I sit, on the only piece of furniture in the largest room in the house. Big enough for a pool table everyone tells me. Light streaming through the windows. Room enough for thoughts to unfold and spread their vines.

Phew… that was refreshing. I better take a break

Comments

[Blue Clinkers]

I offer a haiku for a rocker.

Broken rocking chair;
Wood-swelled seasons and old glue
Made the joints pop out.

[palinurus]

And my offer of a clerihew:

Fullcostserf
views his turf.
Knows that resting will promote
a semi-monthly anecdote.