Lubulianthly

We were trapped in the Arctic, ice-enlocked, beginningless time mocking our memories. The cold, the storm, the specter of death skulking close beyond upon the blue-illumined floes. My companions – forgive me, for I’ve forgotten their names – nameless friends and I played endless games of word and trivia, to pass the time and …

L U B U L I A N T H L Y

was the word I scratch-etched into the rotting easel, passionately arguing to my captive crowd that such a word existed and, not only existed, but whose very definition lay captured in chains in that rotting memory of mine.

Pointless games of word and trivia, to pass the time and …

to keep at bay fears of starvation, and what drives naturally flow from such fears.

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fragment of a dream I had, 5:30-5:45 a.m., Wednesday, September 21, 2016