Hello . . . this is Joe. Welcome to A Daily Drabble. Please add 100 words of prose or poetry as a comment on any date you want and in any order you want. Please reply on the drabbles you like. I'll moderate the comments at night, and they'll appear the next day. This is for everyone!
Oh golden progenitor, here I am perched atop the sphere of my rotation and forever peering down upon the landscape of your existence. Damn you Marín, splicer of limbs! You have grafted cupreous wings into my scapula, too heavy for flapping. I belong neither to hominidae nor aves, so who will hold me? One true boon you have gifted—this plague mask eternally affixed to my face and concealing the sorrow in my eyes. Let the world know: you have formed an empty place in me where a heart should be and empty air where should dangle a pair.
ReplyDeleteI'm always down for seeing the word "scapula"; and "cupreous" is new to me, so that's lovely.
DeleteThank you . . . "cupreous" is a lovely word and more versatile than you might think.
DeleteThe man has wings but he does not yet feel like a bird so he wears a long sharp beak. That said, I do not think he looks as if he can take flight: they look for show; they look meant to keep him fixed to ground, to keep his mind from pomp so bad it makes one’s soul cringe. But some of us love pomp; we court it like snobs who state how they would hate to ride the bus in the town they live in. We makes more sense as me, and yes, I too am a snob.
ReplyDelete