Aug
11
2005

Yet Another Odd Thing

From "Dies Irae," from Sunday, which I swear to God is almost done…they've figured out a way to put you inside one of my wacky metaphors. Sure it's wood and I don't think you can drink out of it (give it time), but it kinda freaks me out.

You can't unring a bell, and the two strangers who wish
they were talking suddenly become a chalice for blood
and you can't unsee it. And that is an anagram for
Sex in one, half dozen in the other, and you say it doesn't matter.
So it doesn't matter. And the guards couldn't stop them anyway.

Found at Book of Joe by way of OhGizmo!

Written by Widge in: The Sunday Before You |

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Widge in his Overlook Hotel shirt

This is me.

No, really.

I am a writer, poet, spoken word performer, actor, singer, improviser, content creation and idea machine, freelance iconoclast, and the internet's janitor that dispenses pop culture wisdom to the protagonist of your choice. I have seen too many movies, read too many comic books, and when the zombies finally come, I'm the one you want to call. I sure as hell won't answer the phone, but it's the thought that counts. I advise people on the net, websites and technology, because I know these things instead of having a life or sleeping.

If you like something I've done, donate to the Widge Wants to Kill His Day Job Fund. Or if you'd like to hire me for a job, my rates are terribly reasonable. We thank you.

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