Like all writers, I like words. I keep a list of admirable words on hand and every so often I’ll pick one and say aloud, ‘Yes, quiddity.’ Or ‘ludic’ or ‘liminal’ or ‘precarity’ or ‘dehisce’. Sometimes it’s the associations: longeurs perfectly evokes an afternoon of idle anticipation before she arrives. For other’s, it’s their economy. What’s better than attenuated to describe how the stone steps of Chartres cathedral have been thinned by centuries of pilgrims or the supplicant-made dips in the balustrades at the Hagia Sophia? Some words are fit and quick: rucked, trillium, buttercup; others slow, their incongruous syllables speed bumps for the rushing reader. Indefatigable is slow, imperturbable also. So in Gwendolyn Brooks’ line, ‘we go in different directions down the imperturbable street’ you can’t help but stop and look about, chin up, before the thing that comes next starts happening.
Image: Photo by Jelleke Vanooteghem on Unsplash . Prosery for Dverse where Merrill is hosting and asks us to include the line “We go in different directions down the imperturbable street.”from Gwendolyn Brooks’ poem “An Aspect of Love, Alive in the Ice and Fire.”
And for your pleasure here’s the wonderful John Coltrane with a love supreme (and we surely all need that kinda love right now).