so it was Saturday
another
doesn’t matter day
i had a hot wind
behind me
blowing my hair
into my face
a crown of sweat
beading
upon my forehead
as i sit here
in the 40 degree shade
listening
to Wall of Voodoo
my throne
an old blue esky
full of canola seed
my kingdom
a vista of
wind-blown leavings
flat tyred pushbikes
my subjects
only the bravest
of breeze resistant bugs
its hot
my thoughts run
a clockwork melting
fuckin hot
i think
to myself
and that hot wind -
she's fickle
teasing me now
as i type
only to be
a heated stillness
in a heartbeat
in the lull
between heated gusts
im wondering
when
and which way
next
she will blow
and
i find
myself thinking
about someone
i don’t know
About the Creator
Bren
"It's just a token of my extreme!" - Frank Zappa
"Cause it's all in the heat of the moment It's all in the pain!!!" - Devin Townsend
Centre Stage with the wonderful Heather Hubler
I'm writing it out not acting in doubt!
Killing him slowly
There’s an intruder in my house again. He stumbles through the door, wet carrier bags in hand. He’s bought me offerings. I show my appreciation, letting him caress my beautiful body. He wants to touch me. I rub myself against his legs. He sighs, dropping the bags. He can’t resist touching me. Running his hand slowly down my spine, I arch my back towards his caress, let out a low purr. It’s what we both need.
By N J Delmas3 days ago in Horror
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