Stuck in a rut, trying to find the right prose to go with the prompt I have chosen.
Tomato juice, anyone?
Odd choice I know, but with the hellish, scathing, swampy atmospheric conditions we’ve had of late below the forty-ninth as of late, a cold glass of the most crimson of fruity vegetables was and still is the order of the moment.
Of course, it must be spiked with the cheapest piss-water brew you can find and the buzz can be immediate or prolonged depending upon the constitution that chooses to partake in its fermented, effervescent glory.
And I think to myself, rather oddly, rather strangely, rather forcefully, if the Edward Cullen wannabes out there would drink it and call it animal blood.
And I wonder if the kids that love open wrist wounds would think the Poor Man’s Bloody Mary matched the hue of the fluid that leeched liberally from their intentional openings.
Of course, I have my own trials and tribulations like everybody else and I prefer the razor blade to work against the concrete on my still unfinished basement floor project.
I’m a cruel, malevolent b*****d, aren’t I?
No wonder the other internet trolls call me a fat waste of space.
Whatever, my skin has thickened in recent times, and the tomato juice concoction helps it grows all the thicker. So, in the end, does this work have anything at all to do with tomato juice?
the waitress in the roadside diner brought my friend and i each a small glass of warmish tomato juice...i immediately complained to my friend about the size and the warmth and the price...he raised his glass to his lips and drank it down and said, 'praise the lord'...
Now tell me why in the world I am now craving a cool glass of Tomato Juice......I have no idea, but I am. A fantastic piece Kenneth and you are NOT a waste of space. I find you to be very magnificent!
The way you come across a subject and go from Point A to Point B with it is very much your own, and never fails to amuse me. And yes, I will take a glass with some cracked pepper and a dash of no-name worcestershire, thanks.
Indeed, not bloody likely. A most interesting take on life via the lubricant of tomato juice and beer. Quite well done, Sir Kenneth. Now about that basement project.... :) LOL Bottoms up.
the waitress in the roadside diner brought my friend and i each a small glass of warmish tomato juice...i immediately complained to my friend about the size and the warmth and the price...he raised his glass to his lips and drank it down and said, 'praise the lord'...
I'm in for a hot and spicy bloody Mary. You went to a few places in this poem. Life can give us many things. Best to use them to better our self or not. Thank you for the entertaining poem. I will make me a bloody Mary right now. Thank you for a excellent poem.
Coyote
Kenneth The Poet is an optimist wrapped in the candy shell of moroseness and cynicism. He lives between the two parallels marked 46 and 49, all while living in the state marked 39. He pretends that he.. more..