Archive for spilled ink

“Under”-standing

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , on May 11, 2017 by bigtuna185

I am substitute
I am somehow lesser
I have more ambition and greater passion
And somehow I am lesser
I replace, I fill in, I take up space
I am matter but I don’t seem to matter
I am required to be more flexible
To take more abuse
Receive less respect
Settle for less fulfillment
And yet what separates me
Other than the thought that I am more while being treated like less
Is a plastic ID badge
A better paycheck
Facial recognition amongst people who don’t care to know me
I grind and scrape myself away
Sharing thoughts and emotions
With an audience that will forget me a moment later
Washing their memories like the tide claiming footprints in the sand
There is one fact that I won’t let myself forget though:

I am substitute
But they will not drag me below who I was meant to be

A Gathering of Exes

Posted in Short Stories with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on September 23, 2016 by bigtuna185

“Good evening everyone, and welcome to the annual gathering of Dominick’s Ex-Girlfriends!” A voice boomed over the PA system. Applause erupted across the audience. “I’m your host for tonight, Dom’s first love, Rachel.” More stringent clapping now. A few grumbles can be heard. “Hey now ladies, no matter how it ended, we’re all winners here tonight. We’re on the same team.” Pleased with the explanation, the crowd of females clap once more. A few can be seen giving high fives and taking selfies.

“I’m so glad you could all be here today. Before we kick this off, I’d like to hand it over to our keynote speaker, Dom’s mother!” Enthusiastic cheers rise from the audience, with some saying audibly, “Awwww, I love her.”

“Hello to all of you wonderful, wonderful girls. I’d like to thank each and every one of you for the impact that you had on my sweet baby boy. I know that he’s rough around the edges, but little by little you’ve slowly been softening him up…except for you, Arcadia. I’m pretty sure you were just a phase.” Arcadia, dressed in all black, flips off the crowd with a forced smile. His mother continued.

“Who could forget you, Sandra? He loved spending time with you at the beach.” Sandra stood up.

“Uh, obviously he forgot about me. Several times actually. He called me Kendra more times than I can count.” At this, Kendra stands up.

“At least you got a full name. He couldn’t remember who was who, so he just called me ‘Dra.'” Murmuring sweeps across the congregation. Dom’s mother looked horrified.

“Well, you see, love keeps no record of wrongs, and apparently no record of names either. Luckily, I do. Like Tiffany! Your relationship was the most adorable 7 days I’ve ever seen.” Naturally, Tiffany had something to say about this.

“Yeah, that jerk just used me for my beach house during Spring Break. The moment we got home, I never heard from him again!”

“Are you sure you didn’t just change your phone number, dear?” his mother stammered.

“I didn’t,” Tiffany said. “But he most certainly did!” Multitudes of nods are seen in the audience.

“That’s a classic Dom move,” whispers Rachel into the microphone. His mother is speechless once more. Just then, a door crashes open from the back of the room. A petite redhead confusedly walks into the conference hall.

“Hi,” she called out. “I think I’m lost. A car just randomly picked me up from my boyfriend’s house and brought me here.” A hush of sorrow fell across the room.

“Oh, sweetie,” said Rachel. “Come on up here and we’ll get this sorted out.” The girl gingerly made her way forward and onto the stage. “Now why don’t you tell us your name and what happened to you,” Rachel said in a therapist’s tone.

“Well, my name is Miranda, and I’m not quite sure what to say. One minute I’m with my boyfriend, Dominick, who has been wonderful to me from day one. We were kissing in his car in his driveway, I told him I couldn’t wait to spend my life together with him, and then he told me that he just had a lot of things going on and needed a break for once.”

“Did his phone ring?” shouted a voice from the crowd.

“Did he run directly inside?” shouted another.

“Yes and yes,” answered Miranda. “How did you know?” A tall girl with a blonde bob seated in the back stood up.

“Sorry! That was my bad. He was with me after that.” The color drained from Miranda’s face. She looked to be on the brink of tears. Rachel stopped her before it got ugly.

“It looks like he was as inconsiderate to you as he was to all of us.” Her arm swept across the group of girls. “Luckily, we have a panic room filled with ice cream and various items that we’ve stolen from Dom over the years that you can destroy.” Miranda still seemed upset, but perked up at the thought of ice cream and destruction. She seemed to now wield a carpenter’s hammer out of nowhere and nobody knew how she got it.

“I think she’s going to be okay,” exclaimed Rachel. “Mama, do you have any final words for the people?” Dominick’s mother stood there dumbfounded.

“Um…well, I’m sorry for everything that he’s done to you, but now I know you’re all better off.” At these words she received a standing ovation.

“And that’s the reason we have this convention,” shouted Rachel over the crowd. “We are all better off. Now onto a special segment of the night. May I ask the first person who was ever intimate with Dom to please step forward.” Girls from all over the room stood up and started making their way forward, sparking fighting, name calling, and other colorful actions detrimental to the sisterhood. “Still didn’t figure this out from last year, huh?” whispered Rachel to herself. Dom’s mother nearly fainted.

“Okay my lovable crazies,” called out Rachel. “Everybody back to their seats.” The ladies overcame their spell of jealousy and went to go sit back down, complimenting the others on their hair, shoes, and outfits on the way. “I think we may have to cut that segment for next time. But the fun keeps rolling!” Rachel was undaunted by the mishaps so far. It was shaping up to be the most eventful gathering yet. “This is my favorite part of the night, the Wheel of Vengeance!”

A trap door in the stage opened up. A fog machine and laser lights set the mood. The music was pounding and the girls were going wild.

“One lucky contestant will get a chance to spin the wheel and inflict some sort of misery on Dom for the near future.” Rachel licked her lips in anticipation. “I wish it could be me, but I’ve saved the fun for all of you. If you could look under your seats, then we’ll find out who the winner is!” The ladies frantically flipped their chairs. Cries of anguish could be heard. One of the chairs caught fire somehow, Arcadia laughing maniacally a short distance away. Finally, a shrill voice.

“I GOT IT!” The girl made her way to the stage while everyone else clapped politely. In reality, they were just eager to know what tragedy would befall Dom. On the wheel were many options. One sliver read that you could have medical documents falsified to say that Dom had an STD (which, given who he is, might not be false). Another read that you could have a copy of all of his keys made for you. Still another was for the passwords to all of his social media and Internet accounts. Damage could most certainly be done here. The women he had wronged had used their struggles wisely, breaking into many different walks of life, which made all of these choices on the wheel possible.

“What’s your name, sweetie,” Rachel asked the lucky winner.

“Myra,” she replied in the same shrill voice from before. Her excitement was getting the better of her.

“Well, Myra, are you ready to spin the wheel!?” She nodded eagerly and gave a great big heave to it. Round and round it spun, the TLOK-TLOK of the ticker hypnotizing everyone into a trance. It seemed to not slow down for many minutes, but in actuality it was only seconds. Finally, it began to ease up, little by little, until it came to rest on a yellow slice of the wheel.

“Wow!” shouted Rachel. “You sure got a great one! Develop a pathogen to make Dom allergic to all of his favorite foods! Non-lethal, people. We aren’t murderers here. Congratulations Myra!” Myra walked away more than pleased. She had been the one that Dom gave mono to, then dumped her when she got sick. This would be even retribution in her eyes.

“Well ladies, it’s about time to move on to our sing-a-long portion…” Rachel stopped midway through her sentence. The back door was flung open once again. “Not again,” muttered Rachel. “Two in one day? That’s low, even for Dom.” However, upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a man who walked through the doors. It was Dom’s best friend, Bryce.

“Bryce, what are you doing here!?” demanded Rachel. A host of boos and hisses came from the crowd. Bryce had been responsible for many a girl being ensnared in Dominick’s web. He had a dumbstruck look on his face.

“I don’t know what happened,” he started. “I was hanging out with my boy, Dom, doing guy stuff. Next thing I know he’s kicking me out of his house and there’s this blacked out car waiting for me. Now I’m here.” He stopped to ponder his surroundings. “Man, a lot of you girls look familiar.”

A chorus of “Oh’s” escaped the crowd, in sudden understanding of who Dom really was. Rachel was quick on the draw.

“Oh sweetie, why don’t you follow those girls to the back to get some ice cream.”

Bryce was puzzled, but went along with it. “Okay, yeah. That sounds pretty good.”

“That about wraps up our annual gathering of Dominick’s Ex-Girl…sorry, Dominick’s Exes. Stay tuned for the newsletter coming in the mail with changes about next year. I hope you enjoyed yourselves. Be sure to take your complimentary gift, a book detailing all of Dom’s strategies for getting to women called ‘Dominating Dom.’ See you all next year!”

Wash your Hands

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 3, 2016 by bigtuna185

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All we are is mud and I don’t always feel dirty

With the caked dirt falling from off of my hands

I am falling off of myself

Every day rising out of filth is a new day to wash myself

I am a part of the earth and the earth is in me

Pushing me out of my cocoon

Metamorphosis ripping the old me to shreds

Organs and bones shifting

My exoskeleton keeping me from harm

Please don’t touch my wings for I want to fly someday

Soaring over mountains and valleys and landfills and sumps

Rolling around the grass with childlike ignorance of all that is coming

What is coming, I don’t know

But they’ve told me it’s bad

Unless you’re good

Then it’s good

But there’s no measurement of good to keep you from the bad

And of course I am dirty and so I don’t want to be dirty when the bad things

Wait, I mean the good things, come my way

And it’s so hard to be clean when everyone else doesn’t want to be clean

The faucet is drip drip dripping down the drain

Keeping me awake at night and I can hear humanity drowning drop by drop

And all I can think about is the mud on my hands and the blood in my veins

And the blood on my hands and the mud in my veins

Because you can’t escape the curse of your ancestry and so we would all be doomed

If it wasn’t for His blood shed for my muddled affairs

We are all blind as the clay has hardened around our eyes

We try to mold our own destiny and shape our lives the way we think is best

But we have cut off our own hands

And we have no feeling

So we die