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!
The fish dwarfs the man, nor do I gape at a great big marlin. Decades ago, I ate marlin at the best brunch I’ve ever attended. My tongue tends to their deaths. My life lives for the cutting of their breaths. So I’ll order pilsner—waste even more water, and pour it into a glass: that’s the way I like it. The way I like it likes me. If water, non-human animals, trees, terranes speak I would leave this world: I couldn’t stand the inevitable furious blare. Or would they screech—kill us, we’re your life and we don’t care.
ReplyDeleteIn Thanjavur, I made friends with a cab driver named J.K. Stalin, who was a strike organizer for Communist Party Marxist India. He invited me to his house in the jungle. He had built it with the help of other cab drivers and his brothers out of concrete construction blocks. It was painted a pastel baby-blue, and he hoped that the color would bring him many sons. We lounged on the roof and drank tall cold Kingfisher beers while he cooked us fish curry. I don’t know what kind of fish, but it was bony and had too many chilis.
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