the winds screech the banshee wail of impending doom the tempest writhing in cumulus tentacles across the emerald sky
a milk crate precariously perched upon an old lawn table with one short leg rattles closed to the edge with subtle shifting plasticmania
a new gust batters the teetering table to thrust it skyward the least graceful aeronautical experiment in all of the known lands in flight
a yellow ball hits the ground with a deformation of character before rebounding over the fence and to the cobblestone streets outside
the downward slope of the road enhanced by the chaos effect of the rounded stones sends it careening higher and faster on
the feeling of freedom and speed all consuming and intoxicating as the moments between impacts grows farther and farther apart
then a wet plop as it goes over the seawall into the former sea bottom exposed by the indifferent nature of sea recessionism
for a moment
just one
everything was perfect
nothing good ever lasts
That’s it. I quite. Done. Finished. Anyone who calls themselves a writer but didn’t write this…. is a liar. This right here is the art of poetry and storytelling perfected. You sir, have taken the cake, eaten it, and shit it back out before the rest of us even saw it go into the oven. You bastard. And I love you for it.
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See. I couldn’t even spell “quit” right…. 🙄
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this was by far the image that captivated me most. and I thought the idea of being a tennis ball sounded like a fun experiment. this is now one of my all time favorite comments ever. thanks Tara.
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But seriously Mike. I really love this series. I want to see like a fifty page book of it just going any going. Okay? Please and thank you. I figure if I can’t write, then I get to dictate what you print. 🤷🏼♀️ Right?!! RIGHT?!?!
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I had been toying with the idea of this series as a chapbook.
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Yes, exactly. That would be awesome.
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Not sure what that entails
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More writing. LMFAO
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Easy peasy. It is sort of the thing I do most.
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More like a hobby than anything, right?
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Is breathing a hobby?
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Do you find it pleasurable and relaxing?
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No. But I don’t always find writing to be either. It’s a wash.
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True, true.
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This is reminding me so clearly of something i did once. It’s so interesting how things translate
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