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Grammarians at the Gate

And I shrugged my shoulders, as people do in novels, but never in real life.
          - Roberto Bolaño, By Night in Chile

There are too many shrugs here with blank stares.
Too many blanks.
Too many open-ends.
Too many starts and near-starts.
Too many speed traps
for time travelers in search of the elements of style.
The word on the street is a memory.
Several are at a loss.
You remember the kiosk as if it were tomorrow
the paths through the dark wood
the pleasantries exchanged
the counterintuitives costumed as consenting adults.
Cases and tenses.
Introductions.
How to begin.
Where to begin.
When to begin.
How to begin again.
How to sit with Mother Tongue.
The event horizon cluttered with discards.
Wasn't it superfluous to connect with so many so soon?
There are rules and regs for that sort of thing.
The Blah Blah Blahs can stymie you
when you least expect it.
Stick around long enough, and your train of thought will derail.
But the instructions said . . . .
The instructions said nothing, yes?