PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Where did all this come from? There was a time I would've died to have known. The writer's life is a lonely life. I'm like a ghost in this home. The red envolope was embroidered with lace. Too bad she's an alien. General quality and performance level enhancements, they tell you. Insects. Conduct one bubbly little brothel, though, tell you what. Methinks I might've spent a few too many moons there (drunk too much). The Deva Planet juggles the juiciest boobs. Pale man in a green suit: weren't you just here with me, moments ago? So where are you now, and where did you go? I chased spirits into the wilderness and wound up with warts. There was a wizard there, with a white beard, who told me to do it... Jolly rollicking, is it not?

I decided to think things over by the bar. I ordered another pint of parabolic phlegm. A bloodthirsty succubus appeared to me as from out a cloud of dust, behind the bar. Inquired what it was I might be looking to tickle the tongue with tonight? I repeat myself again, pint of parabolic, I said. Her tentacles twitched. She secreted something viscous from her upper udder. A curious cocktail, I confess. I pick up the drink and tilt back my head and throw it down quickly. Bryophyta. Next round.

The mothership stutters, a strange language of swamp song curdles beep-bop cryptic reptilian clicks which echoes the intercom. The passengers panic. We proceed to warp speed.

The liquor glasses were constructed with a rare kind of crystal that is immovable unless caressed with sentience, so the sudden quake that came when shooting through the entry portal did not cause them to slide off the tables nor fall to shatter.