Writer’s Log: 2235

Indecision. Self doubt. Disgust. The admission of futility. And so, a little break. A little of this and that… A brief interlude.


Sensations of fractured glass tumbling through my veins.

Posed as a model, exposed and vulnerable, pale skin burning beneath false light.

Tiny claw marks, fresh in the dust, behind and above and within.

Ponderous steps through sickly tar, the stench of fermented gasses lifting as a miasma into my lungs.

Keys of plastic, bags of them, letters and numbers, a thousand monkeys shaking red cups of warm beer that smells like urine.

Whales of cumulus breach and explode scattering the froth of grey exhaust spewn from city buses.

Acres of withered milkweed poison orange and black monarchs that slow their wing beats, stop and tumble to the desiccated soil.

Granite seams, never friendly, stick and build the ire they hold for the fools at the surface.

A purple fungus tickles its mycelium along the nodules that have sprouted from my spine.

The penis of mighty Zeus hangs useless, spent and decrepit, having buried its head amongst the folds of a dying Gaea.



11 thoughts on “Writer’s Log: 2235

  1. Well, death and penises. Wanna hear about Thursday’s hydrocelectomy and the post anesthesia nightmares? Nutsack ice packs? I hate those particular drugs. Takes me a couple of weeks to get my mind back. I was going to say this about your last piece, but here it is, drug blunt. Stop using like so much. Just write it that way. Unless you have a clever underused simile or metaphor that we’re all used up by Wodehouse and Chandler and every gay wannabe memoirist just write purple oozing whatevers unlike anything but purple oozing whatevers. You get simile as often as you get adverbs. Good ones, once in a while. I get caught up in that crap occasionally. Like this or that six times in 2k. Just describe it well enough sans reference. Good night!

    Liked by 2 people

      1. And it was superfluous. Just sayin’. Power is not in pulling punches with simile. A thing is what it is. Style choice. But if one is going to carve in stone and broken glass, a thing is, it’s not like something. Just sayin’. Let it rip. Like is what valley girls say. Leave the imagery, drop the like.

        Liked by 2 people

  2. Interesting bleak overflow of thoughts in one direction perhaps reflective of the current state of affairs or a reflection of a long and bleak human history of disordered thoughts of a rogue species. We need some hope of love and sunlight to exorcise the darkness and open ourselves to a hope and most importantly a dedication to love, gifting and healing. There is no shortage of need for light.

    Liked by 1 person

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