Is it journal, when it is not daily?
There are two wolves fighting in the soul of the elephant.
Whichever wolf wins, the grass gets trampled.
The Bed of Procrastes
This bed was too short.
That bed was too long.
He never got around to fixing either.
I wish this vaccine stopped covid cold.
Still, ten times better than nothing.
There are people discussing my work online.
I bite my keyboard and slink back into the digital shadows.
Mustn’t disturb them.
But, goodness, it’s disorienting.
One dragon fights another dragon.
The peasants from one village say, “Our dragon is the bigger, better dragon.”
The peasants from another village say, “Our dragon is the bigger, better dragon.”
Neither dragon cares what the peasants from one village or another village say, so long as the princesses are delivered on time.
The peasants give up their princesses and cheer and feel like they are one with this dragon or that dragon.
The peasants from one village say, “Our dragon won.”
The peasants from another village say, “Our dragon won.”
The dragons stop fighting and shake hands.
Greasy shadows remain of the peasants who fought for them.
The leaves are down for the count.
One, two, brown.
In the shade of the evergreens the black ice preys on the unwary once more.
European Anti-vaccine [redacted]
I couldn’t possibly comment.
A successful human, lauded and fêted, turns their burnout into a new career as a best-selling author and lifestyle coach.
“All the success, all the awards, all the money, it was really a trap that kept me from myself.”
Another human sells very small violins.
Only angels and madmen are not hypocrites.
Humans prefer common, fallen humans. Much more agreeable.
There Was Something Else
But it got unwritten.
Or did it.