We play our way through the game carefully arranging letters into words but trying to remember this isn't a game of definitions but of words. The meaning matters little in comparison to the arrangement ("He proposed to his third fiance in the same town...")--perhaps this is not so unlike anything else--sitting idly, and perhaps a little drunk, pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock on the door, O O O O (a rather drab draw, each worth only 1) we plod.

***

For a moment I started, I'm startled, I'm, I'm sorry, I was just, there was something, and now it's gone and I'm sorry. This is hard for me to explain; we were never there together, any of us, and now all of us are stuck there, alone, each standing inches apart and reaching out for nothing, not for anyone. I didn't lose anyone, I have no portraits.

No pearls, just closed eyes, just scared of ghosts.




Just stay with me a while, I promise it will pass, I will be better in a moment. Please.

***

In order to win a game of scrabble, ultimately, one needs to have shitty letters. I can play a Q, worth 10 points on a "triple letter score" and score as many points as you can with nearly any six letter word. Besides, the lament of the terrible hand is part of the game. To bluff about such a thing is unnecessary as the snare will undoubtedly get the foot eventually. The cry, the attentive woe of a raw deal, salted by the great play of another, salved by a great layout with consequent smirk. You're a surgeon with these weighty words, short and quiet but always valuable.

"The night is opaque, spills out and it's spreading like paint..."

We laugh off collections of Z (10 points) and J (8 points) versus that of A's, I's and ever desirable S's but let's be honest: if you look at 7 letters, each worth one point, it's too easy. There's no challenge in playing, and the value of the score falls flat. What could be more prosaic than a life of E's?

***

"Can we start it from the top? I like the idea but the speed is all wrong, we had the feel better before I think. And for that verse can we run it again? I can't hear a fucking thing with these earplugs and this goddamn mic stand won't sit up. Can we all just focus? Maybe less of that jammy shit on the chorus. Jesus, guys, is anyone listening? OK, just checking but seriously, we have to end at some point.

I think that's fair right?

No? Well fuck it then. Play things your way, if you can even figure out what the fuck is going on in here. Can. not. fucking. wait. to hear how it comes out. Send me a fucking mp3. I'll be underwater."

When I was insufferable was I better? Can aptitude replace attitude? I have a problem--there's no problems. I can't go on--I'll go on. I can go on--I won't? Go on?

***

I haven't lifted the bag but I can tell the tiles are running out. This game is going to be close--ours are, always. Every move counts and to say that we act alone is to ignore the reality of the game: these words have every bit as much to do with you as me, and playing them offers no ownership, we play with the same board.

Could you check a word for me? I think it might be a word. "Roarer" as in "one who roars." Ugh. Tripped up again, definitions mean nothing and my word is unplayable. Three R's. Ugh. I've had another letter since the first turn, but "Ox" doesn't seem worthy.

The X is worth 8 points but you don't like it--you say I've done my best work without it anyway. Maybe you're right.

But I won't trade these in. We're much closer without passed turns and the hard hands are what keeps it honest. Some people would play little letters and chip away, others would work the board, and some just walk away. But here I am, sitting in the middle of a lake singing about something inane, taking sips and letting it sink and watching it sway.

I've shown my hand and I'm waiting it out, I can make it work, all on the line. And when we look at the score it won't tell the full story, the headlines never do,

but I know who I'll see when I look up

and you know who you'll feel when you put your hand down.




Who could ask for more?