The comma, which gives one pause; the comma which does not give one pause; the comma, at which point one pauses; the comma, a cockroach in the corner of the closet after all the clothes are cleaned out and the conversations are forgotten, hollow and cold; the comma that defies erasure, the comma that sticks; the comma that permits addition but sometimes subtracts; the comma a foot soldier, a drone wearily drove, the first key to fade; the comma a banana peal only a curmudgeonly grammarian with scruples would slip on; the comma a red light where turning right on the red without stopping is ok; the commas lined up like cars waiting for the ferry to return to cross over to the islands:
,,; ,, ,,; ,, ,,; ,, ,,; ,, ,,; . . . . . .
The semicolon a vampire sinking his double fanged punctuation into your neck. Thanks, Lisa! I’m going to spend the weekend listening.
Joe , I think you meant coma .
Yes, of course, “a diffuse cloud of gas” emitted with the issue of a sentence. We know so little about comets, comas, and the comma, nouns followed by verbal tails.