Oh My God, What For, My Eyes!

Someone Find Me Some Goddamn Lye

By Brent TharpPublished 9 months ago • Updated 9 months ago • 1 min read

Better than Salinger at his best, this little beastie

In my tiny belfry,

I stare at a fly,

Slyly landing,

On foody panoply.

Funny fucking fly.

If I killed him, though,

I surely would cry.

Keening to the sky,

Wrists sliced, I'd die.

For in my hoosegow high,

I have naught to read,

But fucking CATCHER IN THE RYE.

I edit STEM books. I like writing, cats, and wine, though not necessarily in that order.

I was raised by wolves in a small forest somewhere in Middle America.

Why don't ketchup bottles squirt correctly? All or nothing seems grifty to me.

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