Shadow Poetry

Ode to the Roaches

On the first day of Christmas, my new town gave to me,
A cockroach in a spare key.

On the second day of Christmas, my new town gave to me,
Two crawling bedrooms,
And a cockroach in a spare key.

On the third day of Christmas, my new town gave to me,
Three hours internet searching,
Two crawling bedrooms,
And a cockroach in a spare key.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my new town gave to me,
Four exterminators,
Three hours internet searching,
Two crawling bedrooms,
And a cockroach in a spare key.

On the fifth day of Christmas, my new town gave to me,
Five new roach generations,
Four exterminators,
Three hours internet searching,
Two crawling bedrooms,
And a cockroach in a spare key.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my new town gave to me,
Six bushels of bay leaves,
Five new roach generations,
Four exterminators,
Three hours internet searching,
Two crawling bedrooms,
And a cockroach in a spare key.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my new town gave to me,
Seven types of roach spray,
Six bushels of bay leaves,
Five new roach generations,
Four exterminators,
Three hours internet searching,
Two crawling bedrooms,
And a cockroach in a spare key.

On the eight day of Christmas, my new town gave to me,
Eight boxes roach traps,
Seven types of roach spray,
Six bushels of bay leaves,
Five new roach generations,
Four exterminators,
Three hours internet searching,
Two crawling bedrooms,
And a cockroach in a spare key.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my new town gave to me,
Nine hours of no sleep,
Eight boxes roach traps,
Seven types of roach spray,
Six bushels of bay leaves,
Five new roach generations,
Four exterminators,
Three hours internet searching,
Two crawling bedrooms,
And a cockroach in a spare key.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my new town gave to me,
Ten thoughts of arson,
Nine hours of no sleep,
Eight boxes roach traps,
Seven types of roach spray,
Six bushels of bay leaves,
Five new roach generations,
Four exterminators,
Three hours internet searching,
Two crawling bedrooms,
And a cockroach in a spare key.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my new town gave to me,
Eleven new pairs rubber gloves,
Ten thoughts of arson,
Nine hours of no sleep,
Eight boxes roach traps,
Seven types of roach spray,
Six bushels of bay leaves,
Five new roach generations,
Four exterminators,
Three hours internet searching,
Two crawling bedrooms,
And a cockroach in a spare key.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my new town gave to me,
A bag of diatomaceous earth
And the roaches died
Finally!

 

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Stream of Consciousness

Things I’ve Learned From Some of My Favorite TV Shows

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Lessons Learned from Scooby-Doo:

Don’t split up.

If you play video games too long, you’re going to turn into a zombie.

Werewolves are actually green.

If dogs could talk, life would be a lot more interesting.

 

 

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Lessons Learned from X-Files:

If there wasn’t something to see here, there wouldn’t be security guards making sure no one saw anything.

Persistence gets you somewhere. (I’m not entirely sure where or if you’ll like it, but it’ll get you there.)

Some aliens are really freaking short.

 

 

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Lessons Learned from Bones:

A human being can be both extremely intelligent and simultaneously common-sense-challenged.

Ice bullets don’t work. Blood bullets do!

Don’t take pregnancy tests at work.

Just because someone is in a coffin, doesn’t actually mean they’re dead.

 

Stream of Consciousness

Hotel Hell #2

Welcome to Hotel Hell.

Here you will accompany me on a strange (and sometimes creepy/disturbing/gross) journey within the confines of these walls.

 

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Here we find the back entrance, up the stairs and through the door. (And my insane sister.) I love my family. 😀

  Continue reading “Hotel Hell #2”

Stream of Consciousness

Hotel Hell #1

No-Choice-Bad-Posture

Yep, its true.

I have, unfortunately, created a new kind of bad posture; the kind you have no choice about.

Have I mentioned that the place we’re living in is small? Like, in there’s only room for two beds. And no chairs. Or desks.

As in, Daphne doesn’t just sleep on the bed now. Oh no, now she watches teeny tv on the bed. Eats on the bed. Reads on the bed. And types on the bed.

 

And guess what?

Continue reading “Hotel Hell #1”