http://slow.writerscafe.org/drea19 The original writings of author drea en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776265787 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Wanderlust wolfwandering for days alone.Only wishing for something, anything -to keep at bay-the constant teething.The constant bleeding at the gum.Where your whims are forced to reconcile with reality.Cessation to the butterfly net mind trap and congeniality.Society's smiling eyes.While i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drea19/783849/ Note to self:In the novel you're on the wrong page.You leaned over, drooledthrew the towel in on the day. Lunacy agethe counting of time is for the painfully sane.So tear the page stalk-creepout and away.Reverb driveway.Cars came and went.My parents: petal to the metal racing to compl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drea19/782350/ I stretch to feel my physicality.  In reality,I should just feel up a strangers leg.I beg for a flood,in what's become a semi-virginal wasteland.Cactus pants and a bedtime twitch.I wishto transcend this bodyleave my consuming cyclical shell.Leave its maintenance to someone else.The conflic.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drea19/782340/ I wonder your take on this, Janine.Are you married with kids?If not,this corner coroner says you areand if he has any, he's abandoned them.There is no reconciling coast to coast-I suppose.You were young, at the very worst naive willing to listen to the music man on the street.His skin was darky.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drea19/782338/ In the bathrooms sterility I believe I am anything,which I am not...But I have a great appreciation for made up things.  For a second there,i also thought I would beat against the silence with those pop-knuckled daddy's down the street.But I didn't.And I wouldn't.My personified self i.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drea19/782334/ I saved up my breath for this, like a penny jar miser assured they would never be ludicrously spent,only to die with a jar full of pennies in the end.I discounted hiccups,wrote tickets.Added and subtracted if only to beat the lonely droll.Anonymous street corner observationsturned calculations ran t.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drea19/782332/ C**k roach.Bent knees and spinethere's been no dynamic thought to reconcile crooked body lines.It's failing time-personal fulfillment left its receding echoin the annals of each vertebrate.Pop and crack.No imagery,just your neck and back.A tin tongue.Once food is the poison you alternately kick and .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drea19/782328/ People speak of change like it is a rare fruityou have to hunt it downand squeezehard.People also take for granted the small scope of their vision, the rushing just beyond their peripherals.Sometimes coercion,or manipulated direction become fill in dummies for change.A new generation's rus.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drea19/782326/ Mornings last note-leaden trillback brokea songbirds last stand.  Impersonal closed toesa glance but nothing moresunlight memorialon the sidewalk crack.   An end in a beginningenergy damn at dawndecomposition,frenzied encore to mortality song.   http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drea19/782323/ I live in a tentacle palace.War state,trying to grab my a*s and my brain.I am not you!                   This here or now.Hop into generational voidI move with no identificationthru digi-culture.My mind helter-skelterslinging cynicismfrom a wind.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drea19/782322/ Foot stepsrain-trainssounds on my drumscoming from thumbs:click-clicking controllersvoices squeak-squawk through boxesand glimpses of foxesmake me turn-look backthe door is out of whackrustle, moan-moana sheet is torn.This is my new home.Scream-dreamswake up my roommate at night.I lat silent,though .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drea19/782320/ My parents,foot soldiers of the middle class; never did undo their boot straps, but they brought me here.  Iconoclast-I was raised in a culture storm.The frame I stepped through held an indomitable door, I had to run when I left.When coming home I lingered on the stoop.Listened.Deliberated.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/drea19/782316/