The lone lodger surveyed the empty bar and gave a toast, intent on submerging his mind in drink like a submarine in the ocean, hoping the hazy pressure would crush all memories of the strumpet.
To the list of other pieces inspired by random words.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
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2 comments:
flea, spike
The flea was mesmerized, eschewing his pupal cocoon, seeing before his eyes each possible stage of what in time became his life. Amidst the thickets of bristly border terrier-hair boroughs, endlessly sweeping seas of fleas burrowed, purposelessly suckling lifeblood from the dog named Buddy below -- who was yellow -- whom they rode.
Writhing maggots everywhere, shattered eggs; some still somehow yet-unhatched. Our flea couldn't make sense of this, for to him it was all self-serving senselessness, so he sought an escape hatch. As far as flea eyes could see, all that abounded or towered around him were sky-high spiers he doubted he could scale. The crowded canine epidermis streets were the worst bit, with all their shit for sale. He'd already been everything else he was supposed to, and right now he was all that he would ever be. So, for his metaphoric sea, he set sail.
He climbed for a time, right to the tip-top heights of a dog-hair spike.
Though much worse below, seeing only exposed a world much larger and less understood, he left them both -- and himself impaled.
Please replace your memory of the end of the previous comment with the following:
"Though much worse below, seeing only exposed a world far larger where far less is known, he left them both -- and himself impaled."
Now I am slightly embarrassed. But that is the nature of being stuck between two worlds I guess.
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