Good day newfound denizens of Ford Nation and others. Instead of worrying about things over which I have little control I’ve responsibly chosen to instead stress about matters over which I exercise none whatsoever.

I have a truly bizarre one for you today. It didn’t start out this way but ended up being some odd tale of vacationers visiting an off-planet hotel they didn’t research particularly well before booking. Those are the salient details, I feel more optimistic for the guests than I do the readers. Consider yourself duly warned. Hopefully this is only 1/8 as ludicrously ill-advised as it seems at time of publish. Doubtful. Great title and ending though! Also, like one of those lame “how many triangles do you see here” things your older relatives post on FB, there are a couple extra hidden poems inside. I don’t know why. It just happened.

“Last Resort”, June 6, 2018. (Not intended as an homage to “The Eagles”, just a mediocre double-entendre.)

Welcome all to the bleaker edge of Hell

We’re renovating so I’ll have to yell

I will be you guide, I’ll see you inside

Then onus’s on you to run and hide

Do not too long this good advice ponder

Firstly from the tour you shouldn’t wander

Beasts roam wild in those misty hills yonder

Sun heats the day to 9000 degrees

Stay in at night or you’re certain to freeze

Be cognizant to always watch your back

Our local Flora are prone to attack

It has been now at least a week or two

Since a guest’s been eaten, we’re overdue

Wake up call’s a barrage of flaming bolts

Arrows are expensive, ignorant dolts

Room service requires we give you a room

No chance there, you’ll be sleeping with this broom

Good night myfriends and let not the  bugs bite

For real- they’ll have to amputate that shite.

I did warn you… You’ll notice thiss is the bleaker edge of Hell, interestingly the other side are actually quite nice- as long as you don’t visit during Lava Typhoon Season, though rates ARE much lower.

Yes I did mean Flora. I’m picturing giant Venus Fly Traps that can comfortably seat a family of five. A more literal interpretation of tourists being suckers. Often times the pinker ones taste like Starbucks! Don’t even get me started on the snozzberries…

I think I’ve caused enough offense to nature by now and will accordionly bid you adieu. Aaaaaaaaadddddddddiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeuuuuuuuuueeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiidddddddddaaaaaaaa.

Get it? If so, you may want to consider professional help.

One Love!

-Alex Blaikie

Categories: poetry writing

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dreadpoetssobriety

A fractured mind held together by cellophane and some used tack.