Comped Chinese Food

A coyote balks at the march between forest and field. Her dance with the grassy fringe fraught with advances and retreats. Eventually she skirts the openness hoping to find a slimmer gap between cover. The longer route feels safer than a bold one.

Someone, a person new to the English language, once noted the word ‘patriotic’ had so many variations in English it didn’t share in his native language. I wished I’d committed more of that conversation to memory, for he spoke on it as if the discussion came from a class or lesson he’d taken to speak my language. All that really remains with me is this notion that ‘patriotic’ is somehow blessed with more variations than new comers might expect. Patriotic, patriot, patriotism, patriotically. Those are the four variations I can think of; four doesn’t seem to push any limits of my thinking.

Anyhow, it dawned on me just now that the word ‘poetic’ can do the same thing…I think…poetic, poet, poetical, poetry. Though it feels like I may be making up ‘poetical’, Merriam-Webster claims it is real. Surely ‘politic’ does the same thing: politics, politician, political, policy?


I really do wish I could recall this guy’s point. Of course now I’m straining my memory to remember where I met this person and could have this kind of conversation. It must have been in my days as a waiter. I probably had this conversation with a Hungarian while rolling aluminum silverware into a napkin or over a plate of comped Chinese food.

253 words on day 765