A soggy beach ball wedged between cotton sheets spreads noiseless destruction when left unattended. It’s hiding from a magnified truth, something once folded that now imposes a grapevine of extra-strength aspirin. Semi-deflated and drumming with concern, slippery when wet; always cornered, cowering from preconceived needles.
B: How did we end up here? P: Metaphorically? B: I was thinking physically. P: Well, I guess we need to figure out where ‘here’ is. B: Good question. France? P: I’m pretty sure we’re not in France. B: Belgium? P: I was thinking more along the lines of a state of mind. I: We’re … Continue reading B P I Chronicles 3
Stalactites still lack tights and make Superman blush. Suspended, drooling–more powerful than a locomotive. Air France lost seventeen of its planes last evening. They’ll show up eventually, they always do. Setbacks? You lose a couple dollars, you spring back with a chip on your shoulder. Go get the dip, dearie.
B: Where’s the bartender? I need a drink. What’s that you’ve got there? P: A caramel-infused jalapeño mojito. B: Oh dear lord that looks awful. P: You’d be surprised at just how awful this drink is. B: Then stop drinking it! P: I paid for it, genius. Plus, it’s not doing too bad a job. … Continue reading B P I Chronicles 2
B: I told you not to let him go. Didn’t I tell you not to let him go? I definitely told you not to let him go. P: What’re you groaning about this time? B: The ice cream man! You heard me say I had to run into the house to grab my wallet. I … Continue reading B P I Chronicles 1
Silent gopher modules grind a bearable decision, tornado grumbling affidavits bristling on a desk. Forever where the wit of windows concentrates adroitly, a cavern stumbles through a platform’s pumpernickel chest. Similar to a plate of corn-fed double bacon burgers thrown against the wall to land upon a bed of watercress.
