And then the squares disgusted me.
Something so wrong, turning the stomach.
Mostly white coverings
working to prevent torment
but not doing well.
One-hundred, twenty-eight,
bending and flexing,
sending me into
the deeper parts of my guts.
Willingness – Part VI
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Blog: Stillfugue Topics:Fiction, Poetry, Essays
stillfugue 
#1 by Hudson Howl on March 6, 2012 - 9:33 pm
Strangely enough, this fits into something I have been thinking about lately. I won’t mention what that happens to be, but this definitely helped me understand the quandary I was having. Thanks. Take comfort you helped someone even if your unaware what it is you did.
#2 by Carl on March 6, 2012 - 10:19 pm
That is fascinating to me, and your comment means a great deal. Sometimes the abstract is too far gone to be any good, but you are right that if it sings to one person, it is a worthy endeavor. Thank you.