Something Nominal

I’m better at coming up with titles than their content
I wrote three times today
Most were filled with endless non-sequitur
Some actual plot
An unoriginal idea

We are six days in the eighth month
And we continue to count down the death of another year
They all seem so short
Though we perceive the future as an endless stream
That leads to another that seems just as far away

My words are finite
You could count them
And measure their worth
Most have multiple meanings
But I limit them by context
I preen possibilities
And put them down a chute of abstraction
And here we are repeating countless turns of phrases
That have been repeated just as many times
And will be many times more
And yet our language is so restricting
Our tongues more so
I want to sing Italian operettas
Relish schadenfreude
Or intone the cadence of Noh plays
But I’m stricken by an English tongue
With the shadows of languages forgotten

I am but one person
Cursed with finite experiences
And though I can peek into lives outside my own
My world could only be widened by  so much
There are things I can’t know
Things I can’t see
Things I can’t express
I am doomed to one body
Shackled to one cage
And even if it were to melt away and sink into dust
I am still only one
Though the worlds I have are many

August 6th, 2017