kitf
I don't care who you marry, just don't marry a chimney sweep. That's what my father had always said. He didn't care what I was as long as I wasn't a "dirty" girl. So I couldn't be a whore and I couldn't marry a chimney sweep. When I came home with a baker at nineteen he nodded his grudging approval. "I should have said no bakers, too," he grumbled, brushing invisible flour off his carpet after he had left. "This is just as dirty." But my father stuck to his word and didn't tell me not to marry the baker, even though he was a terrible baker who didn't like to get up early and couldn't make a souffle.
The worldly lion
is also a wordy lion
a wordy and worldly lion is he
He sits on his throne
drinking atlases from stone
and sipping on peppermint poetry.
If you ask him the time
he'll say with a grin
that it's half past or quarter to art
He'll stay up till ten
Guzzling compasses and pens
And journaling straight from the heart.
She was furious. How dare the dog bite her? How dare the dog act like she was a piece of meat? He was just like her husband. Well, she would do with him what she couldn't with her husband. That dog was going to lose his nuts. Mark her words, by the end of the week, that dog would be ball-less.
large elephant assed strudel tart
I wold be least happy right now if I was in my childhood bedroom. I can't help feeling a little like I am right now. At my purple desk on a laptop. Where I spent so many of my teenage years. Falling for other stupid teenagers, writing things that were "going to make me famous", writing poems that I cringe to look at now, and pouring my heart out every night. I don't pour my heart out nowadays. I guess because I birthed my heart in two pieces and now it scoots around on the floor. Half of it is trying to walk.
Hey mr tambourine man
I've got nothing to say
La de da de da de da
There's a giant giraffe in front of me
and two babies on the floor
and my husband is making pizza
and my uterus hurts.
Maybe I'm carrying our third child.
I'll be carrying that while I carry our first or second.
My life has become very heavy.
I think that's the best way to describe it.
Heavy.
The babies have a cousin named Leight.
There's a lot of weird names in our family,
so say the Jehovah Witnesses when they visit.
When I was a little kid and cars would tailgate my parents I would turn around and mouth at them to back off or just make the motion with my hand. My parents encouraged this. I don't think I'd encourage my kids to do this. I used to be such a little asshole. And my parents encouraged it. And they wonder why I'm an asshole now!
It was so fucking humid. The worst part was her lover of the day was completely wrapped around her. Snoring. She'd never been so uncomfortable in her life. And yet, she let him. He was young. Younger than her usual. Maybe 21, but probably not. His long dark hair was stuck to his cheeks. His eyelashes were splayed out like spider's legs. He reminded her of her son. That probably should have put her off but it didn't.
Dragons have spikes. Dinosaurs have spikes. Fences can have spikes. Heart rates can spike. Bras sometimes have spikes. Some insects have spikes. Bikers have spikes. But girls always have spikes.
Fireflies. There were fireflies in her belly. Why else would she glow like that? Surely it wasn't just him that saw that? He didn't understand why others weren't drawn to her. Why wouldn't other people want to touch her ripeness like he did? He supposed women didn't really like to be referred to as ripe unless they were pregnant. But if she was pregnant, it wouldn't be with a son, but a SUN. She was the definition of glowing.
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writing since 2014 · 11 entries · 9 days shown up
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