2018 will be a year of more lyrics from yours truly. In other words, I will be penning less of bland newspaper articles and more of words in motion. That’s the other name for music lyrics. And poetry. Ask Eric 1Key, if in doubt. Or Lion King aka the Cyacyana. I would have said ask Saul Williams but I know full well that some of you self-professed poetry aficionados merely pretend to be, and therefore have long forgotten who in the heavens is Saul Williams, even when dude was here in the not-so-distant past. In this year, Loose Talk will get shorter in as far as word count is concerned, because, for the yet-to-be-initiated, a tight word count is the kind of stuff of which lyrics and poems are made. The other reason why Loose Talk will sometimes be even as short as 100 words is because…, yes, because who says that stories are to be measured in kilograms like ifu y’ubugari? I could go on and on and on about why I intend to hack down the word count for this column to bare bones; for instance, do you, yes, you hear now reading this –do you pay me? Are you The New Times Publishers? And what this all means? Is that today’s column is hurtling towards its end. Whatever you read from this point on is just a filler as the real gist of the story has already been fully explored. You notice, of course, and despite my forewarnings, that this is uncharacteristically short for this column. Need I regurgitate over the reasons? Anyway, the other reason for the briefness of today’s missive is that we’re still at the tee-off point of 2018, and in the spirit of starting small, starting from the bottom and scaling the heights, I had to dust off that good old rule of writing called KISS. Not the French Baiser, or Bisou as your mind would want you to think. KISS simply is an acronym for ‘keep it simple and short’.
