I have never
been much
for New Year’s
resolutions,
though
I tend
to set
goals
anyway.
Of course
I forget
the goals
I set
within weeks.
But
at the end
of each
year
I promise
to adhere
to flossing.
My oral hygiene
is otherwise
pristine
with electric
toothbrush
and water pic.
But flossing
consistently
continues
to elude me;
I hate it.
It’s gross.
And my teeth
are too close
on one side.
That aside,
I know
it’s important
and despite
this chore
I abhor,
I want to
explore
the spaces
between—
flossing
as metaphor.
In 2023
the unexpected
tested
my ability
to adapt.
Being
in the space
between
what had seemed
to be
solid structures,
then fearing
erosion,
with protruding
particles
that needed
removing,
I often chose
merely
disapproving
hoping
to let
stuff dissolve.
But from
the personal
to the political
I now resolve
again,
this time
publicly,
to floss
each day;
to clear
a space
where no
articles
or particles
of what was
otherwise
digested,
remain
taunting
my tongue.
Committing
to thread
instead
of mere
disgust,
even when
there’s plenty
of disgust
to discuss,
I intend to
explore
the metaphor
of flossing:
tossing
my own gunk
away
to better survey
all the stories
we replay
and say
on assumption
post
consumption.
Here’s
to a cleaner
and healthier
space
we create
by resolution
and constitution
(and prosecution)
and evolution
and conclusion.
Flossing as metaphor
in 2024—
clearing space
to embrace
the better,
and to rid us
of the disgrace
that has threatened
our health.
Happy
and Healthy
New Year!
lou sight 