Off in the woods,
I enountered some lovely soft goods.
My blood rushed, it coursed,
For rigor mortis had not yet descended upon the corpse.
As her cold, dead legs
Were opening and closin',
All I could think was,
"I can't believe that I'm the lucky bastard she has chosen."
About the Creator
Brent Tharp
I edit STEM books. I like writing, cats, and wine, though not necessarily in that order.
I was raised by wolves in a small forest somewhere in Middle America.
Why don't ketchup bottles squirt correctly? All or nothing seems grifty to me.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insight
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
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More stories from Brent Tharp and writers in Poets and other communities.
Standing While Falling
Quotation from Friedrich Nietzsche "He who wrestles long with monsters should beware lest he himself become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you. Man is not destroyed by suffering, but by the meaning he makes of it."
By LUCCIAN LAYTH7 days ago in Critique
Comments (1)
Provokingly dark and different 🖤