Seuss and Loathing in Las Vegas Part 1

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Somewhere around Barstow, on the long desert road,

The drugs and insanity quite firmly took hold.

It was just as I was driving, my hands on the wheel

When the sky was all filled with a great whooping squeal!

Bats of all colours and all sizes and all shapes,

Great swooping bats with big billowing capes.

Some were biting on one another like cannibals:

“Holy Jesus! What are these goddamn animals?”

A voice in the car had just yelled out all that,

The voice in the car yelled out at the bats!


My attorney was pouring a beer on his chest

(In order to facilitate the tanning process).

It was quiet again, but he asked with a shout:

“What the hell are you yelling about?”

It was not a shout, it was more of a mutter

But it is so hard to think with your mind all a clutter!

“Never mind,” I said “It is your turn to drive!”

My mind was all buzzing like the bees in the hive.

The car was all red, like a great powerful shark

I steered it onto the shoulder and I gave it a park.

The bats were still screeching and swooping and hissing

I didn’t tell him a peep, he would hardly keep missing

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At almost noon, with many hundreds of miles to go

I knew that the drugs would now start surely to show

We couldn’t break long, we needed to drive further

Drive on and drive on through this great sandy verdure

We had a suite waiting, it was proofed of all sound

I am a professional, so I am legally bound

To file this story of this very great race

To drive in my driver to my reserved place.

 

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My busy bosses had given me a big load of cash,

And with this cash I had made a mighty good stash!

My trunk was full with all the drugs for my pain

Up-uppers and down-downers, a shaker of cocaine

Screamers and laughers and two sacs of grasses

The best type of acid (to get high off our asses!)

A quart of tequila, and another of rum

Some beer and some ether, so we’d never be glum.

 

We had made our collection all crazed in a frenzies

We went all around to get all of our benzies.

We went all over the county, from Topanga to Watts,

Pasadena and Burbank, every place we had thoughts!

We got all the drugs, more than we could ever need,

But once you’ve started collecting, often greed is the lead.


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Joseph Petrosky

Joseph is a homonculus animated by a need to solve mysteries. When no mysteries abound, crude mexican cuisine will frequently suffice. He grew up in a small, Northern Ontario community and is still suffering the consequences. Also, he writes sometimes.

Bloom

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She was beautiful first,
a gentle rose, standing in a desktop vase.
Untouched, unmoving.

But the darkness always comes.
The colours drained from her petals,
until she only remained in memory.
She was changed,
shifting perspectives.

When she finally emerged again,
wild vines from the soil.
She is a spirit of freedom,
taking flight for the first time.
Diving into life unafraid.


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Nikki McKenzie

Nikki McKenzie is full of sarcasm, positivity and the embodiment of when Jim from The Office looks into the camera. She also likes to write.

Notes from a Chronic Existentialist

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Break

Your frustrations are left

Like too many

Broken promises

Strewn about the floor

But I’ll just keep using

The same tired dreams

That are too worried

To try anymore

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image courtesy of pixabay.com

Flower

I try to sing to you

So sweetly

But you've just been

Blooming

In all the wrong

Places

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image courtesy of pexels.com

Galaxies

You don't have to hate

The orbit of the pond

Just because you want to swim

In the cosmic river




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image courtesy of pexels.com

Scream

We were just ghosts

Drifting

Trying to tell each other

What could be

Real

And what could be

Nothing

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image courtesy of pexels.com

Crisis

You've been looking

Far too long

To let the dread

Of letting go

Defeat you

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image courtesy of pixabay.com

Speak

You're always

At a loss for

Words

But then again

You've been

Silenced

By the act of

Merely living

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Image courtesy of pexels.com

 Compartmentalizing

How are you supposed to find

The way it all fits into you

When you don't even know

How you fit into yourself

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Flying

You were the only one

The bee without the stripes

So we shared the same coat

Because you were only

Passing through

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Lucid

I'm sure I've said it before

But my reality is always so sadly

Lost in dreams

The potential stories that lie there

Squandered in the confusion

Of sleep

 

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image courtesy of pexels.com

Trapped

It isn't what’s out there

It's what’s in here

In the deepest recesses

It's all the same

In the end

It's what the mind makes of it

That matters

After all


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Sara Grainger

Sara is a graduate of both Nipissing and Ryerson Universities. Since completing two post-secondary programs apparently wasn’t enough for her, she is also currently in the second year of the Professional Writing Program at Algonquin. When not making every attempt to avoid the 9-5 lifestyle, she can be found testing the waters of musicianship, binge watching any genre of television you can think of (as long as it’s worthwhile) and pretending to be good at video games. She is also passionate about animal welfare and loves spending time with her Chihuahua mix Tula and cat Oki.

It happened. I saw. I wrote.

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Photo Courtesy of Pexels.com.

Going the Distance
My visits with you are like reading a chapter
Of my favourite book over and over.
Each time, I discover something new
I did not realize the last time around.
I fall in love again and again.

But some days are harder than others,
And I start to lose hope.
I could tell you questioned whether or not
I loved you enough.
But you see, it is bigger than that.
Because the last time I believed in love,
I ended up believing in nothing.

I have been in your shoes before.
I know how rotten that feeling is.
That all the love in the world you could possibly give,
To someone else is not enough.
What is more heart-wrenching than loving someone,
Who does not love you back?
And I hate myself for making you feel this way.

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Photo courtesy of pexels.com.

Burning Bridges
How can they say I burned the bridge,
When they lit the flame?
With a dirty knife and a broken hand,
They carved the match out of their giving tree.

They cut me out like paper snowflakes,
Tossed on icy February windows to freeze,
They left me to bare the cold alone.

Like a tall tree, thick, old and wise, I stood.
Licking the harsh wind with my leaves.
I held on to them tightly,
Careful to not let them blow by,
I would not lose pieces of myself.

All other trees had been chopped, and removed from my life.
I realized it was better this way.
To bare the wind alone,
Makes us strong.


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Photo courtesy of pexels.com

Sad Love
The saddest kind of love,
Is the kind that tries really hard to work out,
But doesn’t.
I really wanted ours to survive the flood.
It wasn’t because the love wasn't there.
It was for me.
In many ways I felt love for you.
More than I had felt any other feeling in my life.
My favourite thing about us was our laughter,
And the way you made my heart flutter.
Like a butterfly taking flight for the first time:
Scared, but excited.
Life just got in the way.
We lost ourselves, then each other,
And then it was too late.




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Photo Courtesy of pexels.com.

Rushing
The baristas are constantly darting,
From one side of the counter to the other.
The counter is covered in spices and cartons of milk.

There are two girls who have been assigned making drinks.
One of them has two brown braids in her hair.
She looks like a female boxer,
In the zone and ready for a match.

The other, has a single blonde braid,
With a navy scrunchy tying it together.
While restocking, the milk bag nearly slips
Through her fingers onto the floor.
She is clearly overwhelmed and panicked.
Yet, both girls manage to serve each drink
With a smile and a positive farewell to the customer.

The lounge around the drink bar
Is packed with students chatting
And working silently on their laptops.
The chairs they sit in were once a bright orange,
But now they are more like a dull,
Dirty orange made of leather
From a cow who has seen better days.


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Holly Williams

Holly Williams is a small town girl jumping into the big city life. Reading and writing have always been activities she has been passionate about, along with photography and exploring. She likes to think if a book doesn't light a spark in your soul then it wasn't a 10/10. Her happy place is sitting on the porch on a crisp fall day, spending time with people she loves, with a hot cup of tea in her hands.