Windchimes

spangles

Yep, I stayed up all night. We drove out to try to find some dark a little after four a.m.

saw glittery jet-trails

wrote bad slam poem
will plead guilty, but recuperating from surgery
after-effects of anasthesia
mind-numbing narcotics

and still, for everyone who's ever plodded through a book out of a sense of duty stemming from what-you-can't fathom while bored to teeth-gritting with it, however icky I stated it, there is my response to SLAM prompt round 2.

Or maybe I'll try to come up with something else before Monday noon, even though my only other idea was suggested by my daughter and has to do with stifling a fart at a job interview...


...nah. The writing, I mean, not the fart-stifling.

J.H. Larrew
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