More Dead Horses
I notice my last few sparkly threads of self respect straying from the forearm of my sweater as I take my infiniteth sip of beer. Conversation happens at me and I know the words won’t be remembered come morning on either end. We’re strangers pretending to be friends. I press the finely coarse threads between forefinger […]
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Foolishness and Dead Horses
Lately, I have been reminded of a quality in myself I’ve tried to let go of: beating dead horses.*As opposed to letting sleeping ponies lie, I’m wont to grab a baseball bat, yell “tally-ho!” and swing as hard as I can on repeat, as though someone has made a gif of me making contact with […]
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