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This entry has no (real) rhyme because the contents have no reason ( Read more... )

My name’s not Alice. I’m not blonde or naïve but I truly believe I just lost my balance and heaved, hoved, and roved my way down a rabbit hole. E. Moly ( Read more... )

When my house caught on fire, I got out.  I didn’t raise doubt about the degree of monstrosity or whether or not I could manage the hot.  I didn’t hide under the bed and stay and pray to be left undead.

No, I saved those madman’s actions for my man instead.

I ignored the alarms that roared as his smoke blew up toward my ass.  I let him act as ( Read more... )

Once I dated a man named Jack who loved to tap that from the back.  Of me.  You see, I was his mistress because his Misses missed his advances.  She wouldn’t even stick her hand down his britches.  But I did.

And it sure was sensuously sinsuous.  He had such thickness.  And he sure knew how to work with this. In fact, it was a fact that Jack be ( Read more... )

When I was little, I walked around with a pillow pluffled under my shirt. And I’d proudly assert that I was going to have a baby and name her Stacey…or if it were a boy he’d go by Kurt. Since then I changed those names again and again to Jane and Wayne and even Shane.

It wasn’t until I became a teacher that I realized my names were really quite ( Read more... )

I busted up the mafia last week. It is now obsolete. Or so I would like to think ( Read more... )

Real life dictates that I wake up at ridiculous o’eight. In the morning. And that means that I’m frowning. Except that I’m not. Not today anyway. Because it’s the hundredth day of school and I’m Zero the Superhero sash-shaying down the runway of my classroom just in time for the morning bell to play.

“Ooooh…” and “Ahhhhh,” they say! They being ( Read more... )

Sometimes I just want to throw some shit.

Or better yet, destroy it.  Turn into that old cliché of the jealous bitch who can’t be kept at bay when her man decides to go astray.  Too bad for his Chevrolet.  Ha.  It’s time for a metal filet.  Mignon.  So long!

But why stop at a vehicle?  From the window to the wall, I’ll have a brawl and demolish ( Read more... )

My drug habit began earlier last year when it became harder to persevere at the morning’s premier.  You see, five a.m. comes quicker than any man followed closely by millions of milligrams of caffeinated gems found at various beverage stands.

Coffee.  Espresso.  Monster and Amp.  Enough to incline my ramp and call me Jack…ed.  Up.  Cup after cup ( Read more... )