There is inconsistency and there is willful
avoidance of the expected. I choose both
because some things should be avoided
and I'm naturally inconsistent.
Is that a word? Sounds funny to
me, like a walrus plucking blueberries whilst riding atop
a portable birdbath.
It is a word. I just looked it up.
The words burn as they try to escape from the vessel that encapsulates the rage.
Wait, no, that's just heartburn.
Snaps of color bounce across
a gray-slated plane of mediocrity.
A cry slips out of cracked lips, half agony, half unknown.
Damn. I dropped my bag of Skittles.