To be honest, I didn’t know there was a word for this, and yet it’s one of my favorite things to do. Today’s word of the day is Parataxis, which is the placing of clauses or phrases one after another, without words to indicate coordination or subordination, as in “Tell me, how are you?”
It is time I go home
Where everything is tainted
With a yellow film of age,
With memories half forgotten,
With dreams half left to rot,
With a bitter taste of disappointment.
It is time I go home,
A home which was never quite home.
I was born in the hospital here
With a frail heart, frail mother,
Frail luck betting on a hopeful simplicity
That I was never warned to withhold
For the sake of keeping my dreams in place.
My home. I always make it home just in time
To watch another thing return to something
I never dreamed it had ever been. Empty,
Empty all the roads, empty the stores,
Empty the eyes of the people who don’t recognize
Me, a child who grew up here too with them.
Me, a child who grew up and chose to leave them.
So now I sit here, home again, I listen
As another unexpected storm sweeps in
After I spent the day with my grandparents
Driving around our little, yellow tainted town
Looking at for all the things that disappeared,
Watching as what takes their places begins to
Age, rot, slow down, rust with the passing
Of each second, day, month, year, person, dream.