Friday, 3 January 2014

Pretentious Word Challenge Poem response

Word challenge - to use all words issued in a word of the week thingy within a short story. Now, this is actually always do-able. The only issue is that writing a short story where anything up to 10% of the words used are obscure or unusual requires a lot of context to clarify meaning or the kind of pretentious snobbery that assumes your readership are responsible for shining their own light through your obfuscation. Therefore I'm cheating and writing a poem.

Before I begin can I just make it plain: I know I'm not a poet. My poetry is always a story which has very little punctuation and random line breaks and that is it. In this instance it also has a lot of words you probably never use.

Now the aureate dawn breaks
As the malingerer nests
Macerating alone

Upon every surface a plant etiolates
Gasping for light
in the carceral environment

The tightly drawn curtains
seal out the air
but photons nudge their way through the weave
exhausted by their journey through the ecotone
they briefly enjoy a terpsichorean freedom before falling
to the floor

Beyond its frame the incohate conurbation
of ten days lies sequacious
to the demands of commuters, the clerisy and canaille

The longueur of her holiday was
behind her
But her effrontery had wangled this extra
longing for an opportunity to suffer again
before returning to the banausic state of being
to playing deuteragonist in her own life

Her extemporaneously delivered excuses had been thin
as paper
but were accepted by her venal manager
who took mythomania alongside regular cake supplies
now the vorago between her and the return to her factotum role
seemed harder to cross than ever
this time she had snaffled must be worth it

Reluctantly active, she takes up the masscult billet-doux
from Rupert Murdoch
dismissing the retrodiction and fanfaronade
turns to the crossword
for her regular cathexis to cryptic chaos

Within moments her MacGuffin
recognising the signs
takes advantage of the ailurophile's stillness
to advert his own presence

Startled by the arriviste
into an alterity
her Billingsgate mutterings
inform the beast, sub rosa,
that there are no styptic qualities
among the paper's many others

He flees to display
a temporary interest in philately
tearing through her mail
as she reapplies herself

Finally dissuaded from the chthonic ratiocination
by a fey understanding of her inevitable failure
with no oriflamme to uphold her
she flips instead through the briefer articles:
the corrigendum for the previous day
various ekphrasis
amused by a malapropism
committed by an Apparatchik of the cubist movement
missed by the editorial camarilla

The cat has tired of the nudnik woolgathering
disregarding the veridical hypocorism it generates
he attacks the pen she clings to
as a colporteur would his bible and
when it lands beneath her
attempts to dig it out
with vermicular burrowing beneath her forcing her to stand
"Tu quoque?"

It is January 2nd

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