"Extra" by Aparna Sanyal

Extra

Aparna Sanyal 

Sieving for words through grain

I find mostly chaff; 

an ungainly mix of

grit and sawdust and leavings.

"Peacock" Watercolor on Paper
By J. Artemus Gordon

These words that explore the geography 

of my mouth, my insides;

they roil and bubble, boil over,

curdle, subside to whey. 

They stick to the edges of my tongue

and the top of my palette-- 

They are the aftertaste of 

a too-sweet pill, 

the rind-sour ringing tingle

at the edges of my molars, 

the particles 

of dross left behind in 

a too-fat meal of lard 

and extras.

Yet,

convinced of their grisly, unspooling beauty,

these words are resplendent,

peacock strutting, 

vainglorious.

They dance untethered in 

salivate rain, and rut through the furrowed fields of 

my taste buds, to reach the tip 

of my tongue, that is convinced it drops pearls. 

They crave the non-linear dazzle 

of my thought train 

as it hurtles by, it's circuitry rigged, 

to decipher casuistry 

and chicanery and all things complex.

These words are 

extra slick, extra pungent

extra nubbly, extra-vagant

Extra extra extra, just about 

everything. 

These words are slain

in a trice.

Defenseless, they dissipate,

leave my side in swarms, in droves--

Their pogrom, the simplicity of

yours.

Poet's Notes:  Sometimes I argue with my husband for hours, relentlessly pursuing a point using reams of words. My husband's simple, linear logic, spare words, and pragmatism, almost always defeat my convoluted logic. 

Editor’s Note:  I had to read this one several times before I could appreciate its layers of complexity.  There is a meta aspect or ars poetica that finally manifests.  The narrative, ostensibly about vulgar or unnecessarily frilly words, changes at the turn--at "yet" about half-way along the piece.  By the end, the poem is about how the speaker would like to resist the temptation of using empty words.