Subject of recently received SPAM: “Women: Revolutionary Climax Product Will Astound You ..........!”
Jimmy commented that the last entry wasn’t one of my good ones. That’s okay. I didn’t mean it to be a good or a bad one. Just one, a few half-sentences wrapped around a few mundane moments, in order to measure my place, my time, my now before it turns into once was, ago. Good ones happen rarely. When they do, it's often because you’ve been pricked enough to want to reveal your wounds.
P.S. If you want consistently good ones, go read littlecough; his prose is mined with little but lethal switchblades of poetic insight.