Saturday, October 14, 2023

I'm an American!

 [Author's note: this was a 15-minute sprint. I may rewrite it as I would like to lean into FDR's Four Freedoms.]


“You can’t do this to me! I have rights! I’m an American!”

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“American?”

“A citizen of the greatest nation on Earth! The Land of Liberty! The birthplace of democracy. An American dammit. How do you not know that?”

“We don’t know many things. Please tell us more.”

“No. First you tell me! Who the fuck are you and where the fuck am I?”

Writing Vikings

 


Bubbles on a Boat

Viscous Vikings

    Invading

        this

Writing Group

Monday, August 28, 2023

Open Biblioteek Amsterdam

 


Tired Traveler's Feet
Step by Step
Beat by Beat
Touring a City
Packing Days Full
(in between sleeps)

&&&

Prostitutes tapping on glass
Canal Boats pushing water
    woosh as they pass
The smell of French Fries or
    waffles or some sort of food
All of this is the Amsterdam mood
Plus art
    Plus architecture
        Plus human design
A human scale city
Relaxes my mind

Sunday, August 27, 2023

A Rose so Sweet


"Do I have COVID?"

"What do you mean?"

"I can't seem to smell this."

"What's this? And yes, losing smell is a symptom of COVID."

"Well, I suppose I can smell other stuff, just not this."

"Again, what's 'this'??"

"This thing here - it's gold."

"That may be the issue."

"But 'a rose by any other name would smell so sweet!'"

"You're holding a compass rose, dumbass."

Saturday, August 26, 2023

A Fly in the Ointment

Art by Jorge

 "Jack, do you feel that?"

"Feel what, Jim?"

"I don't know man, the world seems fuzzy."

"Fuzzy?"

"Yeah, wobbly."

"Are you feeling okay? How long have you been feeling this way?"

"Since I've been sitting here on the rim of this glass."

"That's weird."

"What's weird?"

"I just meant that conversationally, but now that you mention it, what's in that glass?"

"Koninck - a beer, I think."

"Well shit, Jim - you're buzzed!"

Friday, August 25, 2023

PBR with HDHM (a Round Robin)

[Usual rules apply - each person writes a sentence. All the participants had the ability to read the previous sentences, though I'm not sure everyone actually did.]


"Gimme a citywide," the hot dog head man said. "I've had a hell of a day. You'll relish the tale."

"Best I can do is one of these paper cones they inexplicably use for hydration purposes even though they are embarrassingly small," the bartender replied and handed HDHM the libation. The condensation made it slippery.

As the man stared into the cup, he began to reflect on the horrific day he had experienced. Never in his life had he experienced anything like it.

You ever hear of elevator accidents? That's how the real Avril Lavigne died.

"What's your stance on Israel & Palestine?" I asked the bartender, ready to make my horrific day worse."

Just as the bartender was about to speak, a cat jumped on the bar and dashed across, knocking over the tiny paper cone and spilling well whiskey on the man with the hot dog head.

(If you're having trouble following this story - ketchup!)

"You're still going to have to pay for that," the bartender said.

And that was it, the man had had it.

I paid then the bouncer asked me to leave.

The whiskey suddenly combusted, ripping right to my rippling testicles nestled in my scrotum; tumbling in horrific fiery pain like a 9/11 ferris wheel.

I vomited on my own shoes.

Tuesday, August 15, 2023

More Scattered Thoughts (small book poems from May to August 2023)



Drink it
Drink it in
Drink in the music
Let it nourish you
Absorb it into your being
much needed succor
after electronic reproduction
a welcome warm hand
after so much robotic stimulation
fuzz and sweat and life
Let it fill your nostrils
A deep breath of vibration
warmth and color and fuzz
Let it fill you
Drink in the music

Monday, August 14, 2023

The Year is 2563 [8]

[Author's note: I really hate this one. It's content though and gets me closer to my goal this year.]


 If estimates are to be believed, in a mere 27 years - that is to say the year 2590 - we will finally witness the full transformation of society from one bound to our terrestrial mother to one based primarily on the space stations now in orbit or at LaGrange points throughout our solar system. In an interview last Wednesday, an expert asserted that this would be the largest technological leap in human history: akin to taming the horse or later replacing it.

The expert, one Dr. Knuckle, explained that the demographic distribution of humanity has been trending in such a way that more and more births have been successful in the sterile and controlled environments of our various space-faring projects. The number of successful births on Earth, however, have not been increasing at the same rate, despite pollution mitigation efforts started in the past century.

"Contaminants appear everywhere," Dr. Knuckle explained. "It hasn't even been a year since the lipstick and foundation recall and many of us remember the Algae-tea debacle." The doctor asserted that the closed systems of space-faring life were more able to detect and dispose of hazardous materials where we are still discovering world-ending caches of contaminant buried and forgotten by past generations on Earth.

Dr. Knuckle ended the studio interview encouraging a positive outlook and an eye toward the future. The doctor closed by saying "Despite the struggles we have faced and the consequences of our ancestor's actions, we have the opportunity to improve the lives of those who come after us - more and more of whom will never know the feeling of standing on humanity's home and looking up at humanity's future."

Sunday, August 13, 2023

August El Bar Poems

 There was a place called El Bar

Where PBR was the star

I fucked up this poem

Put a slug in my dome

I could have ended with PBR

&&&

Blustery Bullshit

and fabricated facts

each truth welcomed

with a flurry of smacks

There's no profit in honesty

Money flies toward lies

If we end up surviving

It'll be a surprise

Saturday, August 12, 2023

Citywide Special

 [Author's note: I'm in a weird space here. Unlike a lot of other sprints, I feel like this could morph into something good. I don't know if I have the talent to make that happen, however.]


I slang the thang down my throat
a yuppy fad for this old goat
but damn but hell did it make me happy

A shot and beer that I held dear
after which there's naught to fear
for now this ol' geezer's waxing sappy

Of days of yore when I was poor
and a desired pour was just four
or three or two or no dollars

But the way it's been it's been a sin
my pocket's feeling mighty thin
and after rent all I want's to holler

Yet here I am on this stool
yammering on a drunken fool
I don't mean to bend your ear too bad

But a lady's got me mighty blue
and it don't matter really who
all's I mean is I'm filling in the sad

Sure it's a pity in this whole fuckin' city
there's only one lady with a golden titty
but hell she was mine 'least 'til Tuesday