Good morning, grateful giants, I find myself equally proportioned in my gratitude!

First, thank you for bearing with me during my unannounced week off. Just needed a few moments to refresh my jumbled neural pathways. Good news, it could not have been less effective. Haven’t really written anything worthwhile in at least a week but I miss y’all and still maintain a small stockpile of material for just such instances.

It will forever remain a mystery to me how at times the words explode as an unstoppable torrent while at others tap utterly stalls like the attempted urination of an octogenarian with a bum prostate. Aren’t they all…

So let’s do this, please enjoy! Or not, really out of my hands at this point. 🙂

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“Cliffbanger”, August 10, 2020.

Lofty mountain glares impetuously on destabilizing foundations 

Shifting forces necessitating increasing structural recalibrations

Scarcely discernible debris uniformly litters precipitous slopes 

As incredulous winged creatures circle gluttonous fortune

Miscellaneous scree tumbles from peak to base, gathering in spreading piles 

The aggregate detritus creating its own micro-topography 

Skittering mammals cresting mini peaks, scavenging edible morsels 

And thriving green constructs expand dominated surfaces  

Creeping assertively through former cache  

Conquering matter under filthy genetic servitude

At summit, outcropping begins to slide, composing jagged fault

Craggy split precipitating large shelf’s epic collapse 

Resulting avalanche burying wildlife and infrastructure  

Toppling upon itself, fashioning paradoxically unique sameness 

A peculiarly repugnant aroma circulates the broader environs 

Finally spoiling the larger population’s general dissonance 

Stepping forth blank figure stands before pulsing mass

Disgusted at the entropy which would allow such a formation 

Salvation however is soon at hand; tomorrow is garbage day. 

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At least this piece was intentionally trash! Question, was it too obvious it was about garbage too early or was I vague enough? The illusion isn’t meant to act entirely to the end but maybe ¾ ish?

To be fair, given the abundant wildlife garbage day may not be enough salvation. Perhaps exterminators and a mop as well but it didn’t fit properly.

That’s all for me folks, consider me as tap-dancing off the end of the screen.

-Alex Blaikie

Categories: original poetry writing

Tagged as: comedy funny original poem poetry writing

dReadpoetssobriety

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