http://slow.writerscafe.org/OrcinusOrcas The original writings of author Lisa J. Morgan en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776024879 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I can't stop drinkingFrom the Lethe to forgetBut it's a placebo;It tastes like piss-water and I remember everything. An old man, a not-so old man, picks up his coffee for the day.  The sky is grey and pregnant with rainclouds.  He thanks the Good Lord for rain in thi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/OrcinusOrcas/343849/ Over the flowing mutated meadowsOf bomb-burst power dreams on whip-winded willows,The potent spray of irradiated white pheromonesOnto the silk sheets of brown petals,Over the valley built fromA teaspoon of Grow-Your-Own Universe! fertilizer.A fly of horse-heightAccompanies the .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/OrcinusOrcas/343848/ Sabrina Lynn from Texas must have a pair of beige shorts in double-XL by next week or her entire vacation will be ruined, she screams at me.  I nod, a thousand miles away, I nod and listen with my nifty little headset.  I customer service her; I give customer-service grade sympathy.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/OrcinusOrcas/340768/ I can't stop drinkingFrom the LetheBut it's a placebo;It tastes like piss-water and I remember everything.My stomach is tiptoeing overOver the album art of HadesFrom an eighties cover band.All the bleached bonesIn acrylic pilesAre shamsImitationsLittle novelty skeleton .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/OrcinusOrcas/340767/ Wearing whale bone cagesAs an extra set of ribsStitched into lovely lilac and rose lace from theHands of nine nine-year-olds;Nine scalped like fairy-tale settlersOn the wooden memory of Norsemen's hammers,Your corset, a winding sheet.Tracing veins on your breasts and cheeks w.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/OrcinusOrcas/338468/ A slightly cramped Elizabethan stage---In Ohio.An outdoor stage, round, thatched roofCarved wooden roses in stony vases.Enter the first player, in drag,A thick-lipped man with uneven rosy lip-liner, closely shaven,Glossy lips, rouged dark and glistening like succulent fruit flesh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/OrcinusOrcas/329967/ In the slippery red silk of bed sheets,We listen.Clinging with feelers of mauveAnd legs of down,We intertwine.The fat six-foot pale fingersAll mob and bump the door softly,Awkwardly,Ba-bomp-ba-bomp,But we won't let them in.We go back toConducting the business of life.  http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/OrcinusOrcas/321117/ Not without a corkscrew of time onA butterfly wing;Brushed with patience, and the dusty pastelsOf nature, you fill the world with plot.Kinsman of the world's warm woven duvet, laid tightOver each square inch of Earthen atom, YouViolating it, sewing new patterns with an anthropomorphising.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/OrcinusOrcas/321111/ Fall. Each sensation of each moment is an echo of exactly twenty-two past falls.  Twenty-two seasons. The first thing I notice is the change in the air, the happy death of summer and the long elegy of falling leaves, night's quickening pace, mounting the sky in her velvet mour.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/OrcinusOrcas/321107/ Sonnet assignment! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/OrcinusOrcas/321105/  My flower:A white orchid with a pink center,Limpid curtains drawn back.A gaping hole,A price tag.The mark of slavery,The talisman of sexual freedom.Unfurling folds and velvety touchesFirm, yet suppleGiving and taking. But for my sister,The curtains are ripped ope.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/OrcinusOrcas/268440/ Enjoy! http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/OrcinusOrcas/263466/  You’re touching my silvered grey moth wingsTo stop them from flying ever again.Rubbing them into fine ashen dustScooping it up off the floor and smashing your nose in itSucking in deep, snorting, wetting, clumping ashes together with sweat and saliva.You reach up to my should.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/OrcinusOrcas/258983/ A tale of a desensitized customer service agent and a man who has nothing left to lose...except his sanity. Behind closed company doors there is screaming, gore, and release. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/OrcinusOrcas/255570/