19 December 2009

Attempts to not bore self.

I've been boring the shit out of myself this last month or two. Getting together submissions, poring over bios, synopses, sample chapters, introductory letters, everything outside of that has been functionary at best. The thoughts are there, but they've come out with all potential pizazz spent; used up elsewhere.

I've entered a few comps in the interim, microfiction, nano fiction, and even an attempt at a humourous poem for something or other. The microfiction has a one hundred word limit, the nanofiction is submitted by text message, so that's 160 characters minus room for "STORY " at the start, so that a story in 154 characters. The poem wasn't really restricted.


ESCAPOLOGY:

I suppose you could say I've found him. We're always being told we are our ID cards, that we are no one and nothing without them, so here he is, lying in a cold, gritty puddle in an underground car park. All six, square, laminated inches of him. Could they really tell me I'd let him get away? Not by their own rules. Not that they'll see it that way. Is that blood in the water? Here they come. That engine, Benedict's car, no mistaking it. He won't be happy. Safety off. I'm not taking the blame for this.


SNOW:

Tonight's is soft. Last night's crunchy, nearly slush before it froze again. Beneath it all, a starry nights' ice, diamond sheer. Sorry, car. Sorry, tree.



Furtive

You've got a tiresome habit
of being where I want to be,
when I want to do things
I don't want you to see.

“I didn't know you came here?”
is what you always say.
Whatever I am planning
you're in the bloody way!

Everywhere I turn to,
I see your stupid face,
catching me at filthy things,
much to my disgrace.

Drinking at a lapdance club
ogling lady-bits,
up on stage, it's bloody you!
swirling your massive tassels.

My trousers round my ankles,
a magazine in front,
you burst in without knocking,
you annoying bloody cow!

I thought of hiring a hitman
to end it once and all,
but I know you'd walk right through the door
if I tried to make the call.

Do people know your new address?
“Kant Keep, Ewart Bay,
Rue de Interruption,
Inn my Bloody Way.”

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