Yesterday Nick broke a plate while he was cooking. I guess he was holding it in one hand while stirring a pot with the other. It shook him up so bad he had to take a couple deep breaths for the next few minutes to shake it off. It was a pretty violent break, I gotta say. It was a heavy plate and fell hard. Some of the shattered pieces ended up in the cast iron pan he was cooking in. Nothing if not responsible, he replaced the pan so neither of us would end up slicing the inside of…


“Nice to finally meet you.” She said, waving at the man behind the glass. She held the phone connecting her to the man far from her face. It looked like it smelled weird, so who could blame her. The man behind the glass held the phone close to his face, like everything he was about to say would be a secret. “Yeah — yeah you too.” he replied. She could tell he was excited but didn’t want to show it too much. He’s got a rep to maintain, she thought. “How are you doing? I mean, since we last talked…


I bought new sweatpants online. ASOS. They came in the mail today and I immediately put them on. They don’t fit. They don’t fit just like my sweatpants that I already had don’t fit. The stretchy waistband isn’t stretchy enough, not a “comfort stretch”, it constricts my stomach to the point of soreness, so I have to hike them up to just below my ribs. I don’t wanna wear high waist fucking pants inside. That’s like wearing a bra to sleep. This sucks. I’m pissed. I was looking forward to really getting into these sweats, you know? I shoulda bought…


An Overheard One-sided Phone Call About A Rash

What’s that? Yeah. Yeah — I still got it. Still here on my fuckin’ back. I know I know. I did. Five times, did. Waiting to hear back. Ugh — it’s just right in the middle there. I can’t even scratch — -can’t even get to it. I took a picture of it with my uh, with my phone today. Like in the mirror. It looks real bad. Like blotchy and puss — sorry sorry I know I just can’t talk about this with anyone else! I’m too embarrassed. Well, yeah, she’s…


I often think about what body parts I could do without. Like, which ones I could lose while still functioning in the same way I am (barely) functioning now. Fingers and toes always go first. Nine fingers would work well, I think. The middle finger of my left (non-dominant) hand would be the one to go if I had the choice. It wouldn’t be pretty (very Lobster Boy, who I just found out was also a murderer in addition to being a freak show freak. Huh!), but it would definitely do.

The middle finger on my left hand has the…


A Stuffed Monkey Poem

The monkey came stuffed

Looking used

He hadn’t done it

Neither had I

He handed it to me

With wet hands

I didn’t want it

But I am nice

***

It sat in a closet

Behind as much shit as possible

Keep it away from me

I didn’t want it

It means something

But not to me

***

I finally threw it away

A waste of a good monkey

Weird and unwanted

Would have been nice

Coming from a nice guy

And not him

Wet hands


(so you have to like it)

Sometimes I make things for my friends and family whenever birthdays or holidays come around. One year I made a bunch of collages, really great ones in my opinion, and gave them out to my family. I had dropped out of art school a few years earlier so I was feeling pretty bohemian and extra full of myself, with an unearned confidence in my new artistic abilities. I didn’t make them specifically for anyone, just made a bunch and gifted one to each person based on their general “vibe” and if it matched the “vibe” of the “piece”. …


This guy I know had a great joke in his act about how every time he consciously looked at the clock it was always 9:11. There’s definitely more to it than that but I forgot all details except that one, and I love that one specifically. I don’t know why, I just do. I started noticing the same thing not long after hearing it the first time. Everytime I looked at the clock it was 9:11. AM, PM, you name it. Sometimes it was 1:11, 2:22, or 3:33. Of course, it was 4:20 constantly. You just notice these things once they come to your attention. You don’t realize how much you look at the time until it’s 9:11, every time. It doesn’t have to make sense. It just has to feel right. And it just feels right.


As someone who is very familiar with vaginal bleeding, I know I shouldn’t be freaking out right now, but I can’t help it. In these troubling times I just seem to be waiting around for some horrific ailment to take hold of me at any moment. Right now I’ve convinced myself that I have some sort of cancer. Cervical or ovarian, for sure. It started yesterday, and continues to this very moment, as I live and breathe and type with bone dry hands. A wetness on my inner thigh woke me up around 4am this morning, leaving a cute little…


I just entered an Omaze contest to win a (long sigh) customized Mercedes Benz Sprinter Van, complete with a bed, kitchen, and ample storage space. Of course, the contest was brought to my attention by an Instagram targeted ad. The money I donated in exchange for entry in this contest is supposed to go to the conservation of…climbing areas? Like, rock climbing, in the wild. I don’t particularly care about the conservation of the climbing areas of our national parks, but truly whatever dot com. As long as my desire for a souped up van can be translated into something…

clare o’kane in may

currently using writing prompts (I came up with) for each day in May, 2020, the year of our Lord (Satan): https://tinyurl.com/y9sxcraa

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