Member-only story
Bog-Holes
prose from the gutter
l am junk — a rat running nowhere treadmill style — down here in sewer’s drown-pit town
Mop me up I leave grubby marks on everything I touch
I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry
Why do people attach themselves to objects?
Susanne has a fascination for a blue moon and starry night vase she saw in a thrift shop
It appeared to me that she preferred talking about it more than actually owning it
And she ended up hiding it in her cellar
Ha — -
Little does she know that I sneaked down there one cold and chilly Boston night in my big boots and black jacket with studs to frighten the rats away to hunt for the vase — —
Just to either smash it into bits or look at it with wonder and slowly get a feeling of ennui and boredom — +time to smash it to pieces and watch each piece fall off the cellar wall and into the street walking with style but appearing somewhat sleazy and stuttery — -
We didn’t like it so I grabbed it by its bottom and pulled it back into its dystopian drill holes centre — — wow the ‘cellar for the vase’ — -
It’s rather depressing really when someone doesn’t appreciate their good things like that chest of…
