Premiere Generation Ink.

 

i know a game.

you take a jug of beer and put it on the table.

then let people start talking and trying to describe and
relate what goes on inside their heads and their hearts.
statements like "you know how when sometimes you
want to say something but the words don't come out
right," or "you can't think of the right words and so you
just sink inside yourself and don't talk anymore," are met
sometimes with a furrowing of the brow, and a pensive
"hmm, yeah, kinda, " but more often with an epiphany:
"yes, totally."

the jug stands stoic, like some kind of Sisyphus, being
drained only to refill.

and as that eternity continues the brows begin to
unfurrow, and the agreements become near orgasmic,
and soon people are dancing.

i call this game belonging.
 
 
 

Sachin Pandya
Feedback For Sachin
Order attack of the 50 ft. poets

The Writer's BBS Banner Exchange