02 January 2014

APOCALYPSE 2014 & THE PROPHETIC UNDERARM SEATS!!!!

My NYR, as they're called, is to write a piece of horrible poetry every day, what's yours? Most of my little frightening beauties will be kept just for me in my journal but I accidentally started 2014 with an apocalypse and those can't be kept secret. I make no apologies for what is about to follow.
Happy New Year!

source

She knew it was the end when her armpits began to itch.
They turned soft, puffy, red and the need to scratch was unnerving.
Soon she looked like a baboon with both arms curled up as she grated at the prophetic pits.
She'd always known she was allergic to meteorites
but usually they were so few and so far away, landing in strange places like Russia.
Now her knee pits were exploding in hives, world destruction couldn't be far off.
She rolled out of doors a mess of irritation, arms flailing about her
and she grimaced at the sky.
It was a brilliant, beautiful blue
then fiery, ablaze with light
then



Based on actual events. 

The rough draft in my journal is funnier because I was trying to find alternative appellations for armpits. How does "irritated underarm seats" sound to you?
Posted by Marge Bjork at 02 January
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3 comments:

  1. amandaJanuary 2, 2014 at 7:36 PM

    I REALLY LIKE YOUR POEM.
    i just read it out loud/aloud and it sounded nice in this living room; the words rolled off the walls and stuff. Hope you post more of these delights sometime when you feel like it and stuff.

    ReplyDelete
  2. karoniousJanuary 3, 2014 at 1:50 AM

    HAHAHAHAHA!!!! one day... when we're old and gray, can I please read that journal for laughs? It'll make my teeth jump out! and I've always wanted to be that granny who laughs my teeth out.

    ReplyDelete
  3. jeifnerJanuary 3, 2014 at 2:07 AM

    I'm lucky my underarm seats are not allergic to space matter. I quite like it :)

    ReplyDelete

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