Up-Focus from TrainScotting

Í speak in harmonies scaling octavial heights.

Centurians guard my air. Í breathe angels. Í exhale fire. Í burnish with every breath.

Breathless, noiseless despite despots.

The rows planted in keystone symmetry; puzzling eyes ampersand I’s in motion,

Like two horses dying of thirst beside a fresh water stream. The query of the quarry destroyed their shodden hooves. Chipping like fingernails opening soda tab tops.


Lone pylons.


Radio and cellular towers feigned as trees and the refrain repeated from which none refrained.

A bridge over dry dirt.

Í let the bonsai tree grow over one hundred feet. Held fast, bent and hobbled by wire wrapping extended limbs like the necks of Nubian queens. Clutching with cruel vigor the extension as though the feet of geishas.

Incidentally, í never cared for hearing anecdotal evidence, yet í sure evidence anecdotes as offerings to others.

To live and die in the service industry: this is the new Dixieland. Bereft of prejudice.

Barely. The meek shall inherit your tips.

A gnarled bonsai branch slaps me in the forehead as if to say, “oh dear, how could you not remember?”

We watched the weather change three times in ten minutes. He seemed unsurprised. This surprised me.

The rapeseed fields burned yellow like a terranean sun. My eyes nedded shielding, but í looked on and stared at the faux-star. Í beat a path by following the doppleganger affected bleating of sheep. Little lambs of woolen and warm like cherubs. They whispered, “If you jump the stone fence on the horizon, you will freefall forever.”

Í said, “You cannot see the ocean below for your clouds.”

Í stood on the slanting stone stele before slipping into a slide, my leg [em]purpled on impact like the time í slipped on the hotel’s hardwood. Í had had to leave an entire continent to find a bit of breathing space. But, í do breathe more deeply than many.

Vapor fume whisps from my nose with each burnished breath.

Í am the dragon called serpent-bearer. He stays my hand, wrapped around my forearm. He hisses, hides, and hides me. Protectors and protectorates in one. We laugh together in snarling tangles. He hangs like a tentacle. He hangs me upside down by my ankle, correcting the orientation of my perspective.

We appear cruel to the uncruel.

We are cruel to the cruel. Humiliating them unmercifully through unwarranted kindness. Adoration melting cruelty.

My eyes go hard.

My lips narrow and purse while my kindness cuts ampersand maims.

The behemoth bonsai bursts into flames. I howl in feral pleasure.

Mine is water; fire, the serpent’s.

Diabolical excellence arouses

Making ire irie.

The awareness to insert [i] pro/e/duces accordingly.

Author: writtencasey

I am fascinated by the scientific endeavor and I read about or engage with those processes as much as possible. I am a compulsive reader and writer. With a background in anthropology and as an arm-chair/backyard scientist, I hope to improve my writing skills and learn about any areas of weakness or misunderstanding in my analytic skills. I am excited to share. Thank you for spending time here. Please reach out if you are so inclined. I'd be excited to hear from you.

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