Zoos are too costly.
You want to see gorillas?
Just watch the neighbours!
And the lord said,
“I Am Calamity’s Form.
I Am The Blinding Light.
I Am The Finger Of Doom
Come To Finger you.”
And we said,
“You hide behind natural disasters,
make mountains from molehills,
and allow your filthy acolytes
to prey and finger the weak.”
Bibles in one hand,
held aloft, spilling holy milt
as the other palms denial.
Acolytes all must agree to be right
but we’re still free to know that you know (that we know).
So, here we stand in the gap,
and finally declare war on you.
The days are numbered, tyrant god,
and yours are running out.
We’re wise to you and yours.
Nothing can save you now,
not even rite nor greased wrung.
No longer lost in corridor minds,
we don’t have to see by your gaslight.
We’re free to unknow all we were told to know.
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019
When you compare the cats of today to their predecessors, you realise just how tiny they’ve become. Domestication has taken the sabretooth out of the tiger, so to speak. Well, not quite all of the tooth, but you get my meaning.
On the other hand, cats have become much brainier, more sagacious. They’re so small that they must be quick on the uptake if they hope to continue to live in clover. Well, not quite in clover, but I’m sure you get my meaning.
Anyway, they’re cute when they purr, and only scratch and hiss occasionally. It’s a fair trade-off.
My budget was tighter than a goldfish’s anal sphincter, and there was no way I could make it stretch any farther. I’d slashed my expenses to the barest minimum. It was ridiculous! And no matter how I looked at it, I still wouldn’t be able to afford the flat. There were two options to make the rent they were asking for, and I hated both. After considering the pros and cons, I made a very difficult decision.
‘Nice girl without bad habits looking for flatmate. Phone 409 828 2690 during social hours only.’
I sighed like I was about to walk the plank. I didn’t want to do this, but needs must as the devil drives. I approached the bulletin board and stabbed the leaflet into place with a hairpin I’d found somewhere. I couldn’t even afford a thumbtack. That’s how skint I was.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. Seriously, you wouldn’t have needed to take an x-ray.
It was the guy from this morning. The café guy. The one who allegedly worked at the magazine with me. He was stood there with a shy smile, and a posture that reeked of unnecessary subservience. Naturally, I still couldn’t recall his name. Had he given me his name? I couldn’t even remember that.
Fuck this. I was going to be rude. “Hey, jack, are you following me?”
He immediately adopted a defensive pose. “Oh my god! No!” he squeaked. “I have to come this way to get back to the office!”
“You’re some kind of weird sex pervert, aren’t you? Admit it!”
“NO no no no no! I’m not! I promise!”
He was waving his arms like a cartoon character. Even sweating bullets like one. It was almost comical, but I was bored.
“I don’t have time for this bullshit.”
I turned away, and left him gawping there at the bulletin board. It was time to get back to the office. From the corner of my eye, I noticed him typing on his phone. It looked for all the world like he was silently mouthing words as he did so. Who was this guy?!
Never mind that, Calix. Just keep walking and don’t look back.
Moments later when I had turned the corner, my phone rang. An unfamiliar number popped up on the screen. I sighed and accepted the call.
Our Dearest Readers and Budding Poets (and Masters of Poetry, of course!),
We’d be lying if we said that Open Source Poetry is one of our least favouritest features here on Unbolt Me. Why? Well, it’s easy. We love the element of surprise that it brings. What scintillatingly fabulous line will you come up with next? What will you write to make us gasp in envy and wonderment as we struggle to match creative minds?
In short, communal poetry writing is a whole lotta fun!
Now, usually we’re the ones to start a new round of Open Source Poetry. We suggest the first line and then allow y’all to run with it, but we figured it would be more fun if this time we allowed you to suggest the first line of the new poem instead! Cool idea, huh? And, actually, while we don’t wish to restrict you in your creative efforts, because it’s Halloween soon, we propose that the theme should be ‘horror film’!
Here are the rules of this devilish game:
1) You submit the first line of our new poem via the comments section of this very post.
2) We pick the line we like most, and write the next one.
3) We publish the first and second lines in a follow-up post.
4) You submit the next line, we pick the one we like, and then we add it to the poem.
5) Step 4 is repeated until we have a masterpiece!
And with that, we sit back, put on our 3D glasses, grab a monster-sized tub of All Hallows’ Poppycorn™, and ready ourselves to shake and scream in horrified rhymed delight!