Elephant Farts & Ass Mints


I Don’t Know What’s Up With Me?

Or Why The Elephant-In-The-Room Keeps Giving Me Sleepy Side Eye As If I Nibbled On His Bowl Of Hot Porridge While It Cooled And He Snoozes Like A 6-Ton Breathable Brick.

Damn Those Gassy Pachyderms Dropping Stink Bombs – Floating Air Biscuits – When They Nap.

I’d Like To Blame My Shooting Literary Blanks – Blanking Out – On The Weather. The Pandemic Deserves Its Share Of The Discredit, Too. The Truth – My Beautiful Truth – Is … I’ve Never Been In A Better Place In My Life.


Happy, Purposeful, Content Little Creature Roaming My Patch Of Earthly Paradise – Loitering, Really – At The Precise Cross Hairs Of Jim & Dandy. Happy & Shiny. Meh-Less & Fabby Tastic. Living In The Darling Zone.

“… The Gooberish Alternative Reality Though Is That This ‘Writing Thing’ Just Isn’t Happening The Way It Once Did. ‘Its Not Serious, It’ll Pass, Mick’ Is The Convenient Lie I Keep Perpetuating.

Much Akin To The Time I Denied The 4-Year Stretch Of Writer’s Block I Nursed Through Way, Way Back … Before It Passed And Words Fell The Hell Out Of Me.

The Second Hyperbolic Thesis Is I’m More Fluid And Proficient As A Writer When I Scribble From A Point Of Pain, Not Joy.”


Make Peace With Dubya Pea’s Newish Block(Head) Editor – Used Here Under Duress/Protest Because Of The Unnecessariness Futility Of It – That Would Help Plead My Case Of Simple Works Best / Don’t Try To Fix Shit That Isn’t Shit By Killjoying What Was Once A Pleasure.

Also, I Shouldn’t Talk To Imaginary Elephants. What This Magnificent Lump Of Love Laid Out At My Feet Keeps Telling Me. No Matter How Many Peanuts He Bribes Me With

And Trying To Plunge A Jumbo-Size Ass Mint Up His Posterior Orifice?

C’mon Now.

Image By Pixabay