Whazzap


Hello all,

I have not been well lately, and it’s due to a variety of reasons. The main symptom is depression, which seems to be a controlling beast at times, telling me not to feed myself, not to get a new job, etc.

Anyway, I want to let you know how much your readership means to me–

I put out these pieces as my way of communicating with the world. I like how simple I’ve been able to make the website (or blahg, depending on your view), and it’s heartening to see that I can gain followers with pure content alone.

I don’t go in for gimmicks and marketing strategies, which may ultimately be my downfall. What I write is what that moment dictates, and not manufactured for retail. That’s generally why I don’t write posts like these very often, if at all.

Y’all are great though, so I wanted to say something to just let you know that I love writing for this website and I hope to write many more pieces in the future. This one is going to be shown as 499, at least the 499th of the pieces I’ve kept on the site after grooming it some time ago. With unpublished drafts, this will be my 720th post. Hooray! I think.

I always need to remember that I’m not alone, even though it may seem that way sometimes. Thank you for choosing to read my work, I hope it will continue to merit your attention. :D

-A

The Bully Adolescents


Unless you want
some kind of chicanery,
I’ll have none of that talk
in this house or even this yard.

Stickin’ with the trees
could be foolish
to the bully adolescents,
until they see none other
than their childhood idol
Billy Russell, man of stage and screen.

He could talk to them,
one would think,
and let them know
he admires his fans,
no matter how small.

In It


In it went forever
in it went a cupboard
in it fell a tin cup
in it fell a whole man
in it stepped a mongrel
in it stepped a fox
in it rested something brassy
in it rested tubs of gin
in it, in it lay a glob of ham
in it strayed a lathed bedpost
in it prayed an elusive God
in it flayed a whittling boy scout
in it played a wounded knee’s thoughts
in it frayed a flag of dull nights
in it stayed all the philosophers.