cony sharkbite performs all but sail @ dixon place , april 12 , 2014 .

tuesday , we were finally having fun after the solving of the sunday crossword . you’d say , “ why the foreign language clue ? what does ‘armada’ mean to you ? ” no one scoring : winning never was so boring . incidental compliments are sinking through the floor . “ you’re chicken soup is so delicious . ” “ drink it up , then wash the dishes . ” two ships were drifting in the harbor side by side , and they would all but sail .

wednesday , we had other games to share . we were alone and unaware of gridlines . thursday , we were bent on breaking ground . you looked across and I looked down . meanings vanish , even if we rhyme in spanish . every guess is , more or less , a lesson in rapport . i love the way our brains are blended, beautiful and undefended . who knew—two bastions of the grand armada’s pride—that they would all but sail ?

sunday , and the crossword comes again . quickly , you take your pen and search for endings . i say, “ let’s find something new to do . ” you say , “ shut up and get a clue , ” meaning , maybe , you began this game to play me . the soup is getting colder and you’re running out the door . corsairs send their cannon’s flinging . this is not a war worth winning . two ships were sinking in the harbor side by side, and they’d done all but sail .

copyright © cony sharkbite 2014 . all rights reserved .

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