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24 Nov: Q’s and PA Day 24
For a Bear Called Cedric You’d poke it with a stickto see if it’s really dead,and if it grabbed the stick you’d not be surprised. He was made from a sock,stuffed with squishy fluff,and had a button in his ear, and you’d not be surprised if he was smiling at the moon, and sat on…
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24 Nov: Twiglet #306
Blotch Ink.That diseased stain.Scrawled prejudiceon stilts.High.Nose bleed high.An uncontrollablesubstancein the wrong hands. for Twiglet #306 “A Spatter of Ink” Shared with #amwriting on Twitter. Image created using AI Midjourney. ©Misky 2022
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23 Nov: Prose for Miz Quickly
A Poem Not Beginning with a Line by Elizabeth Barrett Browning I’m just a slug on the wet inner-face of the discourse, writes Jack Underwood. I don’t know Jack Underwood, but I read what he wrote, and assume lots of people also read him, and I believed every word he wrote about dead rabbits, and…
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23 Nov: NovPAD Day 23
Prose: Postscripts to a Story Once upon a time, my dad and I were a story. I speak about him in the narrative now. My dad was Swedish, but turns out that might not be so. My sister swabbed her mouth for an ancestry DNA test, and discovered that she’s German and English. Seems Dad’s…
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22 Nov: Miz Quickly’s Day 22
Warmth A son hugs his mother,and her eyes well up. Too long. It’s beentoo long since they shared warmth in their arms,love bound by the luxury of warmth, like softened butter,that sort of warmth, or flannel pyjamasand cashmere socks, or warm soft boiled eggs,and toast with that softened butter. When did warmth becomea luxury. These…
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21 Nov: dVerse Haibun Monday
Autumn undresses the trees. Leaves gone mouldy. And rotting. Everything. Damp. And smells of dog. Autumn has clouds in her eyes. Autumn has rain in her head. She removes her floral halo, and lets time have its way with her. Singing woodwind treesWiley words from a spiderPrick survival skills Written for dVerse Poet, Haibun Monday “Autumn’s Voice”…
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21 Nov: Q & NovPAD Day 21
PA: use these words: button, gather, hold, not, sweep, toxic I.A Clean Break She will march like the sunback into her own name,gather how many thingsher suitcase will hold. It happens.Mistakes.It happens.Like blunt knives and bent forks.She’s leaving him,but not before she makes the bedand sweeps the floor. It’s her last toxic responseto his fleeting hot…
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21 November: As If Sparrows
As If Sparrows I made barbecue sauce this morning.It’s the scotch that makes it historic. Wakes everything up with a surprise,as if sparrows play bagpipes. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter. Images are ©Misky, and created using AI-Midjourney.
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20 Nov: NovPAD Day 20 (PA)
Still Conflicted Seeing is believing, they say. Flip that global warming switch.Again. You’ll see, they say. I read thatmeat production warms the plant. So I stopped eating red meat,but I would love a thick steakinstead of this boiled lifeless eggand bread white and soft as cotton. It’s wrong,bringing a child into an incinerator. No trees…
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20 Nov: Quickly’s Day 20
Gator He’s down thereby the bridgeweighted down with mudand wintering in the roots ofthe greenest leafed trees. The lord of dark shadows.The god of swamp water. Down there with his books,and trinkets,a few games,two cats that wandered too close,a chicken,a gin bottle,and his teeth. Always his teeth. He’s waiting outthe coldest months,numb as oxygen, andsweeping…
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