Quite a Quote

     Seneca accuses me of putting all my “eggs” in one “basket.” By basket Seneca means men, and the basket I’m in right now, Izzy. I usually put one egg in the basket at a time. I’m basically monogamous. If the egg breaks, or if I feel like switching it, I try not to worry about the gooey mess. But Seneca’s right, there’s no denying it, egg breaking is traumatic. It sends a shock to my nervous system. I twitch, I spasm, I shiver, I shit. I convulse, I’ve pulled hairs out, I chew my bottom lip. I don’t eat, I can’t sleep, my tongue is as parched as if I’m walking in a desert. After a while, I see it for what it is, a splat’s a splat. I move on. I hate runny eggs.
     Lodged in my brain.

Gross, Susana. Maggie Scratch. Barcelona: The Blue Shepherd Press, 2013.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.


For the Intermittent Writer


Short books about albums. Published by Bloomsbury.

The Wink

This Week in Kink

%d bloggers like this: