Tag Archives: gross

Wellness enthusiasts

 

walled in the well
we love the well we live the well
it’s all well here
we dug the well in the dark
we wallow deeper
we want the well
the well wants us
it’s nice
to be buried, alive
no one knows we’re here

where where
are the well people
with oily reflecting eyes
wobbly wet skin
slime in their hair
cold fingers
And webbing, webbing everywhere.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

Head cold brain fog

 

I finally finished something! My little horror comic is all done. See how cute and horrible it is. Joel is definitely me, going to work every morning. Witness the melodrama.

https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/last-minute/list?title_no=276285

Being sick actually helped get this done. My brain was in a weird fog. I spent a long time sitting in my car in the parking garage because I got distracted by the weirdness of my tongue in the rearview mirror. It’s such a horrible gross alien, all twitchy and purple and veiny and sluglike. I just stuck it out and moved it around and marveled that I was in control of this thing. After a while I realized, I’d been doing this for god knows how long, and I needed to get a drink of water, and drive home.

Then I got home, and Don said something about the cat doing something, I don’t know, I don’t listen to him much 😉 and I thought about saying, “It wouldn’t be outside of the realm of possibility” in response. But I got mentally hooked on that phrase and was like, how long did that take just to say in my head. It’s the longest possible phrase. I say that all the time, too. Did I say that just now? I’m not sure. Why don’t I just say maybe. Could I find a LONGER phrase than “It wouldn’t be outside of the realm of possibility?” Could I BE any dorkier?

But when I called in sick, I just spent all day staring at the computer screen with the paint bucket tool, connecting lines, clicking fill, connecting lines, clicking fill. The whole damn thing got done. I am really amazed that I got anything done in the state of mind I was in, but if I were in a normal state of mind, I probably wouldn’t have done jack.

I didn’t used to be affected by colds this way. I’m not sure if this comes from getting older and being just more susceptible to everything, or if it is simply a matter of me not being as repressed, so I allow myself to get emotionally and mentally affected by things. It was kind of fun, except for the occasional drowning in my own excretions.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

The Thing in my Throat

 

I want this thing in my throat

To grow legs and crawl out of me

I want it to wander the world

And learn wisdom

I want it to ponder the mysteries of the universe

I want it to talk with sages

About God and the meaning of life.

I want it to meet lots of other things with legs.

I want it to go on a shonen training arc.

I want it to come home to me

Wiser, stronger

Fierce brave and bold

I want to see its journeys in its demeanor

I want to be proud of it

Right down to my bones

And I can call it my son

And it will know I am its mother

And then

I can wrap it in a tissue

And flush it down the toilet

But only

After it’s lived a full, full life.

I hope one day

To raise the thing that will best me.

But until that day

This stupid shit will keep happening.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

Outdoor exercise

 

We decided to go swimming.

Last day of summer! Let’s take advantage of this heat, we said.

So we went to the lake.

 

Nobody was in the water.

It was a cesspool.

Fluffy brown-streaked foam collected at the shore

Four feet wide.

As if the lake was a giant boiling cauldron of broth

But someone had neglected to skim the gathering proteins off the surface.

Or maybe the sand decided to have a shampoo

But passed out from the heat

Before it finished rinsing.

The lap lane ropes

Normally cordoning off the deepest area

Had desperately pulled themselves from their tethers

And morphed from a 50 yard rectangle

Into a pathetic oblong.

Even out deep,

The water was soggily crusted with dead insects, pollen,

And gray mysteries.

 

We looked at it

While summer’s warmth punched us repeatedly in the back of the head.

We decided to run instead.

 

We walked

We ran

We sweated.

The sun soldered our clothes to our skin.

The humidity held its slimy palms

Over our noses and mouths

As we miserably carried it

On an endless, sweaty piggyback ride.

 

Our reward, we decided,

Was an ice cream treat.

It melted so fast

We had to drink the last of it.

 

Sayonara, summer

You had your last hurrah

And my god

We’re ready for fall now.