Sawdust Psalm

on building, coughing, and coming apart

Have I mentioned my passion for building things? There’s art in creating sawdust.

Photo by Murat on Unsplash

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Ears ring
saw blades spin

2x4s drop

sawdust
in the nostrils 

my throat
my teeth
in everything
I didn’t mean to breathe
 
brad nailer snaps
wrist folds
forearm locks
steel-tight 

but I keep moving
board after board
on and off sawhorses 

measuring twice 
but words still fly
 
little gaps 
little errors
nothing aligns

what I saw
in the mind 
isn’t here

but

I’m too far in 
to care

paint fumes
chemical lullaby
staining my thoughts 
and the walls

while I’m coughing 
like mad

lungs sanded raw

dust storm
in the shed frame 
sweat in my eyes

fluid grit 
glued to my skin

moving everything out
then all back in
keep / toss / burn later 

shirt sticks
too many pieces
not enough space

still 

the lean-to stands 
while I’ve come 
quite undone

smelling like pine sap  
and burnt 
by the sun

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Finally, the lean-to stands - Petra O Hefner

If these words held you, I would love it if you considered buying me chocolate.

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Progress pix. I forgot to add the back-breaking work of the gravel and pavers.