100 – Small Game

Nothing lofty for the final sonnet; I’m sorry to disappoint you. If there’s one thing you can always rely upon me for, it will be my inability to muster solemnity at the appropriate moments. I’ve been fortunate enough not to have to stand beside many caskets so far in my life, but it’s pretty much …

99 – Lost and Found

This project has been therapeutic for me in a couple of ways – certainly if you’ve been following along at all you’ll notice me dumping my brainweasels all over everywhere, so it’s cathartic if nothing else. The more I do, and the more I force myself to see that I do, the more I acquire …

98 – The Lying Machine

This started out as advice my therapist gave me, when I complained about being unable to trust myself. It’s difficult to make good decisions when I’m very aware of how profoundly trauma has shaped my worldview and the way I interpret what happens to me. If I can’t get good data about what’s going on …

97 – When I Go

Don’t look at this one for sense so much as sound, if you will. I was kind of enjoying the iambic pentameter in combination with Emancipator, and so I tried to let the words arise from the sound I wanted to produce rather than from a coherent image or narrative, if that makes sense? I …

96 – Something Something Space Sloth

Okay, this is not my fault. I asked someone who purports to be some kind of genius to tell me what to write about, and obviously I should have known better, because when you ask geniuses an open-ended question, they insist on bringing math into things. She sent me some kind of randomly-generated character building …

95 – Bloody Mary, Full of Grace

Another little something in the universe of Sects. I haven’t gotten too deep into the metaphysics of this setting, and probably won’t for a while, but the basic operating principle is that the eldritch invaders that have taken over the world respond to belief. A sufficient amount of emotional investment, commitment, faith directed at anything …

94 – Understudy

I guess I’m just self-flagellating this weekend. Yesterday four hours in a tattoo chair, today re-reading sites about narcissistic parents. I don’t keep going back to this stuff because I’m learning something new about narcissism – I’ve got a grasp on the pathology and it’s not complicated – but because reading other people’s stories of …

93 – The Necromancer Next Door

Getting a huge tattoo in about an hour and a half, so of course I’m brooding about zombies. This definitely is part of Sects, which, if I haven’t beaten you over the head with it hard enough yet, is a Primer for those also just trying to get through a day in a world that …

92 – The Last One

Poetry inspired by poetry. I’ve mentioned before that I’m a huge bitchard (gender-neutral form of “bitch/bastard,” tell your friends) about poetry. I’m only willing to admit to liking a poet if I’ve been blown away by literally everything I’ve read of theirs. 100% quality or nothin’. It’s not about mechanical aptitude; it’s not about format. …

91 – Bacon Town

I was at a wedding all day. The bridesmaids were talking about a bacon festival that apparently happens somewhere nearby, and, uh… well, you can’t just say “bacon festival” in my presence like it won’t make me start imagining things. The crackling fat can be heard for miles.The sun is vague in the sky at …