| ZYGOTE IN MY COFFEE.COM |
| ***BIO*** Sharran WindWalker: By the time I was 20, I realized I was never going to fit, or be accepted, in the normal world. One parent tried to have me committed to a mentally handicapped home and the other insisted I should try for any and every menial job available such as washing cars or peeling potatoes. But something inside simply refused to be so shackled, and fought back.
For the past seventeen years I have been pondering the meaning of life; and writing my thoughts in a format some call free verse and some "inspirational prose." And that’s it |
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| © 2006 zygoteinmycoffee Ink. |
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| The Last Redneck |
| by Sharran WindWalker |
| The last redneck
staggered from his sink of corruption: his city lair wheezed in some air coughed some up sat in the cab of his truck: only the cab was gone, the windows and doors too, he didn't seem to notice, he leaned upon the steering wheel and dreamt of a happy past the trucks roared down the highways the cars sped by everybody playing everybody having --fun-- that was the name of the game the only game in town. He looked down the empty street thinking of those who died --from polluted air he'd been told-- but he didn't believe that, it was poison, he was sure, a communist plot to take over the world there's no such thing as pollution he told himself only idiots who believe everything they're told: He tried to breathe again but found no oxygen and died of a communist plot to take over an empty world for all the communists had died too of a capitalist plot to take over an empty world. Some people never learn, can't read can't write can't 'rithmetize, can't figure can't reason and when those who make the lies die what does one believe in then? |
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| Jan. 2006 |
| 56 |