
The Chafing of 100 Millennials
When you awaken your dictionary is large—the days of abridgment have long passed.
You search for globes with a friendly eyebrow cormorant and press on.
You seek out varied terrain, and the enemy of trance, riding with fully loaded pageants—prospecting and westward.
You might try for a chain of mountains to the north—you seek out hired hands among the wolves.
You have a foul expectation of the liveryman who speaks in tongues and whispers to an invisible mate—a tumbril escapist with gold-fringed epaulets and a torn pannier for a hat.
You billet with a cardiovascular tactician that speaks of hernia surgeries and the resulting black scrotum. The mule driver speaks of shaving his nipples.
You’ve hired a team of champions and you’re off for the call of the northwest—a place of intractable weevils.
Oh, the pure joy of being alive another day in this millenium.

What I’m Reading:
Ela Minus Recommends:
- There is no failure.
- There is no success.
- There is only make.
- make.
- make.
— Ela Minus / The Creative Independent interview