Why not Join Boot Camp for a hard-working March?
Boot Camp Keegan March Thingee
March Shin-Dig 001
Feb 28 2015 11:15 (Saturday)
1276 It was Saturday night, Sunday, about two a.m.
1277 Write a story "driven by" a specific poem of your choice
1278 This is as good a reason as any to look up
1279 She moves towards me, cheekbones, legs
1280 A story ending: "He walks away, becoming smaller."
1281 Fish, baskets, bones
1282 We die, or we become invisible
1283 Do not trust happiness
1284 Twenty-four days behind a locked steel door
1285 The real pain in a phantom limb
1286 The case of metal in your mouth, the thoughts
1287 I just want to speak to my mother again.
1288 The widow has left us too
1289 A story beginning: "There is no need for you to stop and listen."
1290 In an old woman's dead house, webs are ugly. In morning frost, God.
1291 On the mountain, a screaming
1292 Snowdrops, Crocuses from far away
1294 Past old, past faded, somehow still not dead
1295 Pale cost-clerks with very small dreams
1296 Walking round town with "For Sale" written on my head
1297 I dream I climb trees, then leap at clouds
1298 What is left in the boot of my car
1299 How a body strikes the ground after falling
1300 Something will happen soon. It's bound to. Someone will come.
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Sunday, February 01, 2015
January Flash Blast
2015-0049 (Feb 1 2015) 07:43 (Sunday)
1201 Who will identify you?
1202 Put a record on the juke box, my Marlene
1203 Sand pouring through the gap
1204 The smell of late night buses
1205 I would rather be scared with friends than brave alone
1206 Mine will be a small death, hardly noticed
1207 The footprints left in ash
1208 Roll up your sleeves, pull the child free
1209 I leave one arm to feed the insects
1210 I am forty-seven and forty-eight
1211 Is it my body that you want, or me?
1212 Something about ice-cream and how they make the flavours
1213 We need more cliche
1214 Let us invite seven spinsters up for tea
1215 What is not
1216 I've started, so I'll do my best to finish
1217 I would be a U-Boat Captain, with five days of beard
1218 Summer, but ticks in the grass
1219 I could have been a private dick, a shamus with a dirty hat
1220 Musician, torturer; musician, murderer; musician, you.
1221 The concussion of the unexpected blast
1223 Keep saying we were right: as the tanks roll over us
1224 When we fucked in my Cortina
1225 I almost rang your bell