Oh My God, What For, My Eyes!

Someone Find Me Some Goddamn Lye

By Brent TharpPublished 3 years ago • Updated 3 years 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.

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.