By Brad Rose I really like flower arranging. It’s part of my balanced lifestyle. I often notice, however, that my thoughts become wispy tentacles of love snakery, but why shouldn’t they want a hostage? Normally, I prefer sword dancing to mud wrestling, as long as it’s the gentle kind. It only requires non-quantifiable accounting skills and a sidesplitting attitude. Yesterday, while I was rewriting history and tending my peace garden, a wonderful feeling overcame me. It suddenly felt like a good day to do bad things. Of course, brain surgery is mainly in the mind of the beholder, but for many it’s not to be missed. Certainly not by Uncle Huxley. Can’t wait ’til the family reunion.
Categories
Main Squeeze Literary Journal 