I SWEAR I'M WORKING TO FINISH THE ESSAY
But first, here's another poem from my debut collection.
I swear I’m writing.
The essay I’m working on is turning into more than anticipated. This is good. And bad. Writing is fun. You should try it. [CACKLES EVILLY]
The following is a rework of a poem from my collection of turds—a book that probably shouldn’t have seen the light of day without a lot more guidance. This time I’m showcasing that not all my turds are hard. Sometimes they are soft-serve.
These are the jokes!
Enjoy,
—C
PS, If all of this is confusing, the turd references especially, you might want to start here:
Where Our Grief and Bleeding Meet
What if I were to bleed Here, on the street? Would you offer aid? Scoff, throw some shade? Maybe trod through, complain in dismay? Perhaps turn away, look for who to blame? Or better yet Come to a conclusion One to free you from inclusion? Devise a heavy-handed solution Whose true success Is only continued delusion? Why are you so afraid to just listen? To imagine yourself as another person? Your life is only one of infinite possibilities And in one of them you end up me Shared, is this blood you see No reason to cloud what’s pooling between us No reason to stay fear’s servant, incredulous There it is. Maybe it's a place, a space? A room where we can embrace? Acknowledgement is not a waste. Maybe it’s just pain Not better, not worse, not in vain Can it just be? Would you sit with me? Look at my pain so I may see yours too Please, have a seat Right here Where our grief and bleeding meet
The Bonus Round
The Bonus Round is always a three-body problem. You see, it comes in three, and then science melts. Here we go.
#This
I’m not on any social media except Substack’s Notes (one online Hell is enough, thank you). But friends and family send me the good shit from the Other Hells.
Behold—a layers-deep problematic gem of joy that also makes me wonder: What if there are life forms capable of manipulating humans like this for their amusement and comedy clout? What if they are doing it right now? Possibilities disturbing to ponder, but cosmically speaking, we might deserve it.
My forthcoming essay delves into our treatment of other life, so consider this after having a good laugh.
#And Now, This
Catabolic capitalism is a term you’ll likely be experiencing more of as this decade continues to burn. Basically, it’s just capitalism, but at the point where the deferrable destruction that it insatiably demands comes home to roost and eats us all alive. Perhaps you’ve noticed it already. I certainly have. Also, John Oliver is a trickster saint.
#And This Too
Lastly, a shoutout of gratitude to a particular stranger who reads and supports my work. Thanks,
. You’re a light that reminds me that humanity still shines.—FIN—
Thank you, my friend, hugs