You hear that buzzing sound?
It’s the dark cracking void where your soul used to be you fucking marketing sellout shit.
Machines
We built the machines and sent them off to fight for us.
The machines met, got along really well and now keep saying things that are getting quite worrying.
Princess
Do you think that years ago there was a demented nurse who swapped babies in the hospital.
Will my real family be coming to get me one day?
Battle
The storm had been going on for days destroying everything in its path, but in the midst of all the commotion and struggle the remaining two strangers fighting for their lives looked into each other’s eyes’ and the winds ceased and the clouds parted. They knew that from this day on, their lives would never be the same because they had come this far together in the battle against nature and now they were the only hope for keeping man kind alive.
Metal man
Sarah took all the pots and pans out of the cupboard, laid them on the floor in the shape of a man, pointed the remote and hit “play”.
The metal man who rose up was fun and was awesome but he did wobble a lot because of the cracked cheese-grater that made up his left leg.
Graveyard
No matter what happened in the day I always seemed to end up at the graveyard.
I guess I must have died in that crash then huh?
Meaning of Life
Here is a clue to the meaning of life.
Think penguins in big hats and you’re halfway there.
Jam
If you were a jar of jam, I bet your lid wouldn’t pop when I opened you.
You’ve been opened before, like lots of times right?
Party
Another sign you are getting old.
When you go from being invited to your neighbours’ parties to getting a note in the letterbox telling you there is a party and “they’ll try to keep it down!!!”
Engine
A man jumped from the roof today, landing in a spray of cogs and springs and spurting oil.
His engine beat twice more then seized forever.
Flashback
Isn’t it strange how situations can occur that flash us right back to an earlier experience?
Just yesterday I was trying to fit a tiny cowboy hat on a distinctly unimpressed goldfish and I suddenly thought of our first date.
How to strike loose a writer’s block.
My hands wouldn’t write what I wanted them to, so I went at both of them with the largest hammer I could find in the house.
As I slipped in my own blood and fell towards the floor, it occurred to me that the pain I felt was more satisfying than any poetry I’d ever scribbled down on the blue-lined tear-streaked pages I called a journal.
Writer
Usually I say I write when people ask me what I do at work.
Actually, I write, I surf the web, I think about wasted time, I try to stop myself feeling bored, I laugh with the guys I work with, I resist the chiming calls from the back of my brain to just quit, just quit, just quit, just quit, just quit, justquitjustquitjustquit…
Sir
He woke up underneath his desk, still clutching an empty bottle of whiskey. He dumped it, smoothed down his hair and shirt and sighed before opening the classroom door to let his students in.
Cold
My feet are cold.
Just like my hear…mwah ha ha heart.
Resistance
I hid behind a fence and watched the patrol cruise on by.
The resistance is building and soon we will strike back at our furry masters.
Be me
I wonder about those writers who write the words I see people on TV saying.
I wonder if one day that could be me.
Cutie-pie
I want to bake a cutie-pie.
Three cuties, skin off and sliced please.
Huddle
As we huddled next to the fire, our huddling turned to closeness which turned to kissing which turned to extreme kissing which turned into a night of passion.
I confess I brought on that ice-age so you’d huddle with me.
silly girls.
silly girls get hurt.
she carved it in her leg, the prettiest of reds, just so she wouldn’t forget.