Colleen J A Condit
Colleen is a creative nomad in search of the eleventieth dimension. She holds magician’s degrees in both alchemic engineering and unicorn whispering. When she’s not busy juggling tarot cards and mirrors, Colleen works as a freelance editor, writer, artist, and sometimes musician.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Friday, October 12, 2012
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Monday, October 1, 2012
something different
Today, a poem!
I should just go ahead and apologize now, as I'm not versed in writing poems. (See what I did there! Okay, I apologize for that too.)
And now, without further ado--not to be confused with adieu or a doo (eww!), here's my bloody poem:
Paper grocery bag handle breaks,
Slides out of hand,
Slams to garage concrete floor.
Clinking sound of glass seems okay at first, but…
On the way to house,
Merlot red oozes from fatal wound,
Soaks paper bag and groceries,
Flows onto walkway…
Gah!
And garbage bin is still down by the road
Where it was put out for this morning's pick-up.
Now, on pavement,
Stain of wasted grapes serves as gruesome reminder:
Bring those bloody reusable bags to the bloody grocery store.
I should just go ahead and apologize now, as I'm not versed in writing poems. (See what I did there! Okay, I apologize for that too.)
And now, without further ado--not to be confused with adieu or a doo (eww!), here's my bloody poem:
Paper grocery bag handle breaks,
Slides out of hand,
Slams to garage concrete floor.
Clinking sound of glass seems okay at first, but…
On the way to house,
Merlot red oozes from fatal wound,
Soaks paper bag and groceries,
Flows onto walkway…
Gah!
And garbage bin is still down by the road
Where it was put out for this morning's pick-up.
Now, on pavement,
Stain of wasted grapes serves as gruesome reminder:
Bring those bloody reusable bags to the bloody grocery store.
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