This is another new term for me, let’s play with it.
A Very Late Morning
He came to slowly. His eyes cemented shut. The light of a bright mid-day sun glowing fleshy-orange against his lids. He tried to piece together how he got here through a head full of brain-gruel. His last murky memory a last call. He’d ordered a very unnecessary mizu-wari. The smell of which now seeped from his pores mixing with half digested shabu-shabu bits. As he cracked open his eyes his skull split into sharp, jagged shards – a kaleidoscope of pain and color.
In this case I came up with the kenning I wanted to use – “brain-gruel” and then worked from there. Unfortunately this little piece is an autobiographical description from one of my day’s living and working in Japan. The night prior was a long one, but the day after felt like eternity. I eventually did show up at work that day, but I was thoroughly useless. Ah, the young and stupid. I’m glad it was over a quarter century ago.
Sometimes experience is a harsh taskmaster and an indelible instructor! The poem certainly works!!
Like the kenning. Like the pattern. 🙂
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