WHARVED

Take Your Vitamins

I have no use
meddling with some
cute piddly melody

if nothing of substance
ever becomes of it–nay,

there are too many jokers
caught in this farmer’s market
[and not enough bok choy to go ’round].

I’m Not Offended that You Vomited

While I’ve got your attention, I have a couple things I need to get off my chest. For starters, this shirt is really bunching at my armpits. You don’t mind if I take it off, do you? Well, I’m taking it off either way, so your opinion really doesn’t mean squat to me at the moment.

But you know, I only took off my shirt to show you the other thing I want to get off my chest. Do you see it? Look closer. [Closer! CLOSER!] Yeah, it’s weird to have a toenail growing out of a nipple. I’m not offended that you vomited; apparently I’m the only documented case of this ever happening.

I wanted to ask you a question about this thing. Should I just trim it and polish it, or should I go for more drastic measures? I don’t know if my insurance will cover this type of cosmetic surgery. I should just get a boob job and hope that my new jugs distract from the freak show.

Kill to Fill

This arrow has too many feathers for my liking. I can understand their utility up to a certain point, but I fail to see the point of a dozen. Doesn’t wind resistance hamper any semblance of aerodynamic effectiveness? And come to think of it, where did those feathers come from? How many birds must you kill to fill your quiver, you rat bastard?

Subject to Change

The clock strikes its mother as it lunges for the last grocery bag at the end of the checkout counter. No clock can afford to keep its dignity with plastic as expensive as it’s become. Please be aware that clocks are rarely such instigating ne’er-do-wells, but time[r]s are always subject to change.

I’m No Critic

I’m not in the business of explaining or justifying the words I use [and am capable of producing]–I’ll leave that to the people who read it. I generally stick to that ideology when it applies to things other people have created as well, not because I don’t recognize or understand the significance of their exploration, but because I’m too busy worrying about the significance of my own exploration.

Is that selfish? I guess it must be, but I can’t function any other way right now, so it’ll have to do.

Why should this development be judged as uplifting [rather than shackling] to my soul and creative spark? Well, I thought about it while I wrote [and edited and kicked and throttled] it, that’s why. It’s been mine to think about for much too long by the point it reaches the reader, so some fresh eyes would certainly be nice.

Marketing to Kids

A good number of people move right along that conveyor belt of popular youth, unquestioning, satisfied to be simple consumers. They keep doing the same thing over and over, repeating only their initial motions and favorite pastimes while corporate profiteers responsible for the stagnation of products and experiences fire their older employees in favor of youthful tastemakers who take the same old pile of shit and mold it into a unicorn [still made of shit].