Three Different Ways:
Dreams, Madness, and Myths

How many gods does it take to satisfy. A poem.135 words.

I am the bastard son of the sky and the ground. Sprouted whole from my mother’s sundered flesh. Implanted as she shuddered from my father’s intrusion. This biting weed I am. No root. All bloom. No comfort. All rage. I am the howling bitch that roars and devours. My children spread from me, and I…

It’s only stone. Just a whole lot of it. In one homogenous lump. That not even lichen has colonized. It’s only stone. It doesn’t feel. It only is. And it’s in my way. It’s only stone. It doesn’t adapt. But I do. And this too, I will pass over.

A car’s horn shouting obscenities at the driver. The ice cream truck dropping the beat. The salvage truck is dragging the chain again. I see but can’t hear the little feet. The birds are making new grudges in the trees. The kids are teasing the dogs again. The summer party is spilling out into the…

It was too small and frail for me to steal. Which is good. I didn’t want to commit such violence upon it. The flower was smaller than the tear that raced down my cheek after I tripped and fell in the abandoned lot. I missed crushing it by a generous inch. I held my breath…

I won’t write about obscure gods. I won’t give them boundaries and show them where their power fades. I won’t recite adorations with awkward pauses from rough timed line breaks that forces others to think of them for once. I won’t share myself with them but will leave them starving in darkness so that they…