Obsession is my natural state.

As an undergraduate in Electrical Engineering at Texas A&M University, I was required to take a Mechanical Engineering course where we analyzed the forces in a truss. Trusses, often triangular networks of beams, are commonly found in bridges. As I recall the course material now, some 40 years later, there were two methods of analyses. I had been intently studying those methods for an upcoming test, when I closed my books and went to bed to catch some z’s. Immediately, I began to dream about trusses. In my dream there appeared two beams. As I, with great speed, analyzed the forces in each beam, the beams themselves, like some terrible organic disease, reproduced. Suddenly, there were four beams. Terrified, I worked even faster, but the beams again reproduced. Now there were eight. Pencil flying, I analyzed. Sixteen beams.

Thankfully, my roommate shook me awake. “You’re mumbling,” she said. “Are you okay?”

I have no idea what I replied. But when I closed my eyes, two beams appeared. I began my calculations. Ut oh. Four beams. Eight beams. Sixteen beams. Thirty-two beams.

She shook me awake again. Understanding it wasn’t real, I cried out, “There is no truss!”

Yes, she thought I was nuts, but I did manage to sleep without that nightmare returning.

Years earlier, at thirteen, I had discovered poetry. I remember jotting down lines of verse on any scrap piece of paper I could find. When I was sixteen, and got my driver’s license, my mom sent me all over Dallas running errands. (Yes, I loved it.) One evening, flying home on the freeway, I pondered the word “mobile.”

I pronounce this word with a short ‘i’, like the gas station, or a child’s toy hung over the crib. Thus, it is nearly impossible to stop the word from leaving the palate quickly. As I drove, through the mix-master and across the city of Dallas, I repeated the word “mobile”. Mobile. Mobile. Mobile.

I was in love with words.

Somehow, when I wasn’t paying attention, when I didn’t realize what I was losing, I abandoned my love of words and my love of poetry. Perhaps I was too busy pursuing romantic love or trying to analyze trusses. But now, years later my obsession with the sound of words, and all things poetry, has returned.

Consider the word, “blink”. Say it out loud. “Blink”. Notice how the hard “b” at the beginning and the hard “k” at the end are like clicking switches. So that the word “blink” turns on with the “b” sound and turns off with the “k” sound. Great word, “blink”.

And yes, I’m entering poetry contests. Not once, but as many times as allowed.

This could get expensive.

I’m obsessed. And I don’t mind. I’m dreaming about poetry. (It is infinitely better than dreaming about trusses.) I’m waking up in the middle of the night and scribbling down lines. And no, I don’t want it to stop. My mind has gone down a rabbit hole.

Pour the tea. I can handle the Queen of Hearts. I love it here.

–Kidd

Hey, have you ever thought about the words effervescence and quiescence? Go on, say them fifteen times. I LOVE WORDS!!!

Some of Kidd’s stories are in the following anthologies:

AN ELEMENT OF MYSTERTY: SWEET, FUNNY, AND STRANGE TALES OF INTRIGUE

Buy This Book Online

FUR, FEATHERS AND SCALES: Sweet, Funny, and Strange Animal Tales

Buy This Book Online

ONCE UPON A TIME: Sweet, Funny, and Strange Tales for All Ages

Buy This Book Online

UNTETHERED: SWEET, FUNNY, AND STRANGE TALES OF THE PARANORMAL

Buy This Book Online

SEASON’S READINGS: More Sweet, Funny, and Strange Holiday Tales

Buy This Book Online