NaPoWriMo (11)

Inferior squabbling tracks down your peeves and pets them until you’re all bottled up– rage turns to passion, often aggressive creation, callous ignorance in the face of reason (looking up at you, practically pouting), and you hate what you’ve become, but look at what you’ve done! Masterpiece.

NaPoWriMo (10)

We cage ourselves and our situations. Though the walls have large gaps, we pretend not to see friends’ adjacent troubles– we constructed these borders for a reason. Some of us prefer to swallow the key, though I leave my cage unlocked.

NaPoWriMo (9)

Veins configure, snaking, coursing under skin, hot and full of blue blood, converging on Route 66 headed for the heartland, where the earth pulses and breathes red creation, supervising the bellows, thumping life forward, a fixture of any good body.