My friend Jon Neske is a poet. Well, he's my husband's pal so I guess he's my friend-in-law? Anyway, the guy knows his way around the language and isn't afraid to share it. He's also very fast with his wit.
Yesterday morning I was lying in bed willing myself to get going on my (ill-fated) 22-miler when I Tweeted thusly:
Webster's needs a word for the anxiety/dread/anticipation/excitement one feels before a long run. Perhaps they already do? #bipolarrun
Jon commented (on FB, cuz my Tweets go both places): Antixiousdreadament. I made it up just for you. Anti- from anticipation/ xious from the latin root of anxiety/ draed from the OE root of dread / ament from excitement. Really, though, this is why we have poetry to say these things we don't have words for.
Super clever, right? I thought so, too. Even more amazing was the message I got almost simultaneously:
What wonderful joy this wall
I have to smash through
before my first step
The road swallows me up with my
own stomach before I even approach it.
I will pound my inside-out
back into me with my feet
after the start
but until then, O!
this exquisite dread.
What wonderful joy this wall
I have to smash through
before my first step
The road swallows me up with my
own stomach before I even approach it.
I will pound my inside-out
back into me with my feet
after the start
but until then, O!
this exquisite dread.
(Posted with permission, of course! Thanks, Jon!)
So between Phoebe and I, we both managed to mess up the poem. I botched "first," typing "fist" instead. She forgot the last two lines. I blame the New Hampshire weather. I'm sure friend-in-law Phoebe will agree.
ReplyDeleteWhat wonderful joy this wall
I have to smash through
before my first step
The road swallows me up with my
own stomach before I even approach it.
I will pound my inside-out
back into me with my feet
after the start
but until then, O!
this exquisite dread.