various miscreants

May 15, 2008 at 7:14 pm | Posted in blogging, prosepoemthingy, writing | 12 Comments
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and diverse shadowy deals done, he wipes his grimey hands on the red, white and blue of his apron, the sun has set and the evening traffic dulls into the faint flat hum of machines generally propogating the myth that contentment can be achieved through low commerce, he scratches his balls as he steps into the tub, ahh well, life is understood only in retrospect, it is lived forward and improvised,

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  1. in the olden days butchers wore blue and white aprons which often would get a little reddened.

  2. indeed the sun has set on the human souls, with the body and the mind running lives unknown, taken over by bloody hands forsook by love, and humming machines. This piece was fantastic, like the soul peering through the mind…

  3. This is a fabulous piece – you’ve given him such a distinctive voice in so few lines. Nice one.

  4. butcher indeed

  5. …is it really that simple… a nice hot bath and contemplation… if only… it’s all abt the comma came over from christina’s place…

  6. a dark and real and three-dimensional snapshot. great.

  7. Good stuff. I don’t usually get a glimpse of a butcher at the end of his day. I hate it when me scratch their balls in public. At least he is in the privacy of his own bathroom, at least he thinks so…

    I love your poem on Asphalt Sky. Good enough to read and re-read, and I will.

  8. I meant to say, when men….., not me. i have none. and I’m glad, not envious.

  9. He’s a butcher and scratches his balls with the hand that wielded the knife? Is that really a good idea? Life is only lived forward…as far as we know. Some physicists would disagree.

  10. love that last line

  11. A ha ha ha! Nice pc statement you open up the comments with- and hear I was thinking red white and blue to mean the American flag 🙂

    Seriously, I liked this in a disturbed kind of way. How true, sad.
    Duck! haha, not me, in a kind of disturbed way,

  12. surreal and pragmatic


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