Some Creative Writing

Paragraphs 5

1. My prayers, aimed at the ceiling and going no further, I stood up and experienced taste of acrid failure. And saw: Christ on a quad bike, skilful with poise, takes a difficult corner. I bend the knee and give praise. I then ask if he has ever heard of the DIY product No More Nails. He smiled kindly, as if I was the first to make the joke, whilst mentally putting an asterisk next to my name in the Book of Life.

2. I saw the problem clearly now. Never propose necrophilia on a first date. Mistake number two: giving her sex aid with in-built oscillating wank function for use when I not there to tend to her. Her ill humour understandable, fierce. I took my defeat and went home, into the welcoming arms of the internet. Browser history shameful.

3. ‘Culture constructs reality’, clucks English professor. Strange man: tenured and hubristic. He says to wraith-like audience: ‘I coil postmodern turds on the bedsheets of empiricism.’ Example of this given: excreta screams from below diaphragm; backward whooshing sound; noise and bowel move in unison and expelling matter.  Glazed eyes, dribbling into his lectern, drunk on own claptrap. Exhausted, he falls to the floor like an old sock. Applause followed.

4. Knowing nothing of the real world I take solace in word and song. Title: A Road Paved with Carcasses. Result: a smorgasbord of post-apocalyptic banalities. Writing words with bones I composed this line, ‘Pablo, take your rusty crap hammer and perforate my membranes.’ Music accompaniment for this: glassy tones. Like cattle pissing on harps. 

5. Bending porn around allegory and dung into metaphor, with symbols I hacked at the body of a pageboy who lies without motion. Joints dislocate with careful twist, toothpick arms snap off, dimpled cheeks cave in with accurate applied pressure.  Lengthways sexual turn, uncoil a narrow two yards and receive me. I finish, twitching like a fisher’s rod. Despondent experience. Swabbed-out afterbirth pools on floor and taunts me.