Fiction in 58 (fevered minds)

Modern man
Snowflakes, giant globs, fell with a weighed intensity amid the deluge of a wind-swept winter storm.
Wet wood hissed with steam, another log for the fire that kept him warm, fed. Flickers in gold and orange danced with the shadows.
The tempest knocked his world back 150 years; no power, Internet, phone.
He smiled into his coffee mug.

1 comments:

Large Marge said...

Dude, what the hell happened to your poem?? ;-)

Modern man aches for cornflakes.
Cornflakes, giant frisbees, fell with a weird intelligence amid the deluge of a wind-swept cereal storm.

Wet woody hissed with steam, another log for the fire that kept them warm, fed. French fries in gold and orange danced with the shadows.

The tempest frisbees knocked his world back 150 years; no power, Internet, phone.

He smiled into his coffee mug, keeping his cereal helmet near.

(Author's note: It's a really good thing I never took acid, or did any drugs. In fact, I haven't even had my coffee yet!!)