We’ve heard that it’s hard to rock a rhyme that’s right on time. In fact, it’s tricky. So how will our hosts do as they face their first week of compulsory rhyme? There’s only two ways to find out, either you listen to this show or you ask a friend to do it for you. The former seems easier.
This week also featured a piece from listener Ian. Thank you Ian.
If anyone is curious about the origin of the river metaphor that Ben referenced, it's attributed to Heraclitus, a Greek philosopher born in 544 b.c.
“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”
THIS WEEK'S PIECES
180 grasping pairs of hands
180 griping points of view
She’s married now, bought a house
In a town that we called shitty
She has grown her blonde hair long
And moved up to the city
I don’t know what he’s up to now
But he’s eased up on the weed
She’s got a deal for that same book
I never tried to read
He’s got friends I cannot stand
He’s gone to work for lallemand
She’s married now, he looks like me
She met him and now they’re three
Though I kicked and splashed about
The water moved when I got out
I think I knew them once before
I do not know them anymore
I’d love to tell
you in that frame
That you grew up
But you’ve stayed the same.
Here, there’s been change,
And I’ve tried looking to blame,
Findings ways to explain --
It doesn’t help.
So I look at you
And I’ll just do my best.
to see you smiling
Staying the same.
Skip, Little Pebble
Skip, skip, skip little pebble,
stay afloat and never drop.
Plucked, Surveyed, approved,
then hurled, to skim atop
the murky waters. Until
it fades of strength and will,
loses hope and sinks,
lost in the beach once more.
No pebble was the same,
the speckles are similar
and the subtle, smooth frame
almost identical. Almost.
There never used to be an aim,
but now, a small island I spotted,
after I threw my blackened, speckled
pebble, is the object of my game.
None shall keep their distance
from the depths it seems.
All lost in the mix, betwixt
the blackened pebble and I.