my three words

I was wrong when I mentioned the three words I was given, I actually had 'squelch', 'bastard', and 'permanent record'. I didn't like working with those words, but after reading more of White Oleander, I started with something like Fitch does, she plays off the heat of California, and the fires as a marking for Astrid, the start of a year for her after her mother leaves. so i took the line "The heat tells the stories" and played around with it, and here's what I got.

Permanent Record

The heat tells the stories
here, squelching out everything
else, a dull ringing left
in memories that you thought
you created, moldeed
in the clay of your history,
brought to life
in your actions.

But as the temperature rises, you melt
into forgetfulness, losing
yesterday, the day you ran
after the neighbor's dog. Misplacing
last year, curing your bastard
father into oblivion, forfeiting
the first day in detention
your freshman year.

Sun beating into pavements writes
your history, all the stories blurred
edges of memory, until it's all heat-stained
days, waiting for
the air conditioner to work again.


bleh--I'm not so sure about it, but we'll see how it goes. for a rough draft it's not too shabby, and there are a few things I like, some of the metaphors and the like, but yeah. I really don't like having to put swear words into my writing, it doesn't please me one bit. Thus is life when I have a teacher who will say openly "Oh, blow me," when he's sick of debating. it's such an interesting class though.