A Long Walk Spoiled

It’s been an up and down week tethered to the usual rants and raves from the menagerie of harpies and sicko-phants that exhibit themselves in the gallery. Here’s a slice:

1)a lady I knew, a year or two older than myself, passed away the other day from stomach cancer, the same disease that took her father and her brother. She had 3 kids, little ones.

2)a hanger-on, pretender to the throne, is trying to weasel himself into the good graces of a family member, and I am certain would like a parcel of land, his acres and a mule free, that certainly my brother and I would inherit.

3)my mother continues her descent into reinhabited adolescence, nose ring, small-of-the-back tattoo, is that what comes next?

4)my father continues his descent into the family business, that of melancholic nostalgia, a Cuban-American pitfall.

5)my sons, dueling fevers, left husks of their very active and vibrant selves, left me battered last weekend

6)she who shall not be named, according to the ammended documents of the familial settlement, is suspiciously moving her forces to outflank my battered troops mercilessly.

7)that radio show which takes up so much of my free-time, continues to stubbornly resists making any money back from our investment

8)suffering writer’s block for the first time in memory

9)the shorts on my profile were opened up, a huge gash ripped along the right pant leg, I threw it out

10)despite it all I am buoyed by the sheer lunacy of falling in love again