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!
What was the impediment to the progress of the ants? All I see is crepuscular blue. No night lights—nothing bright, only a dark swath of cold land, empty buildings, and roads that were once full. Once upon a time the ants strived to build towers to the sky. Their baubles filled the streets and the air—they were everywhere, scurrying here and there. Little squishy things with little pink brains, their dominion was in vain, and they ruled with vile violence. Now, because they’re gone, we’re enjoying the silence and waiting for the day when it all rusts away.
ReplyDeleteAh the big, ah the city. Almost Vegas. Maybe Denver? The comparative mode—reigns. The blue talks like a turkey talks Chagall. I long. For dead quail. Good sauce. Good beer. Bread sour and savory as white women’s tears. White petals, slack vows. Hard as a head and smells as good as bread. I caught the juice in the net; I drowned in blue while biceps troped ere lung. Pollution means all not only big city. Not me not amyl nitrate, not am not stone nor moon. I lived just off The Strip for nine years. Nothing, quite unlike it.
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