#shrimp
Is there a pepper-
corn next to the shrimp, or can --
it be a lost eye?
Apr 28
Apr 28, 2026 at 5:19 AM UTC
She keeps asking what he does,
though his answers are recycled:
French bulldogs, paintball,
a seventh-grade broken nose.
The basket of fries between them
feels like an interview.
She teases about sweat-stuck bangs,
neon-laced Docs,
his faux leather squeaking when he moves.
Her smile forgives empty stories,
softens each silence.
Condensation slips down her glass,
her knee brushes his,
a spark he does not catch,
his throat working like a valve.
The door opens, closes,
a draft carries smoke and cedar.
distant wildfires.
Outside, a truck unloads shrimp.
A box bursts on the pavement,
pink shells and thawing ice
sliding into gutter water.
Curses flare into the alley.
Engines idle.
Hydraulics hiss.
The stoplight clicks red to green,
green to red,
its metronome louder than either of them.
Somewhere past Brockway Summit
a ridgeline blooms orange.
Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 4:52 PM UTC
What do I love most about life? Perhaps the ability to cook explains all.
So, after our pretty laid-back meetings filled with lame jokes and modest talk about dreams, I offered myself to cook.
"I hate it", he said the moment I told him how much I love to cook shrimp.
It was ironic to discover that each of us loves what others dislike, and vice versa — or maybe, I am the only one feeling that way.
But then, he inexplicably enjoyed the meal. So voraciously. That I thought he did that for the sake of impressing.
Days roll into weeks, weeks into months, and I was still serving the same thing he could barely enjoy. And he eventually got low-key to that.
I was thinking whether he did that for the sake of adapting. It reminded me a bit of how acceptance is much glorified these days. And I was so grateful.
I even wanted to serve my heart for him.
I would gladly do that.
Aug 14, 2022
Aug 14, 2022 at 9:18 AM UTC
there's something humbling,
about the way i feel,
when a darker figure,
around me appears.
this testimony,
won't quench like a meal,
and these sirens
surely won't make it real.
i'm enlightened,
but still can't comprehend,
all of this violence,
between man's so called friends,
don't confide in us,
we cannot understand,
that there's no difference,
between two humans.
you see i did it,
although an accident,
was born with it,
used the words us and them,
i won't forget it,
we're not yet blendin' in,
until we all die, we must pay the rent.
ya see these shrimp were exhausting all their energy,
swimmin' in caves as dark as our synergy,
dying off,
they couldn't help their friends,
cause they had to deal with all the elements.
there's a cost to existing in a cave,
can't attest to the cost of living like a slave,
my own boss, i'm eluding to the trends,
don't need no more widows of veterans.
until we use all our five SENSES,
and cross out all our hate,
exude all of our energy,
especially as of late.
we are doomed for a century,
we reside in this cave,
you cannot hide your emotions,
they will not compensate,
for all this pride you deserve,
you can't help but feel it,
until we find a remedy,
we'll be unnerved, no sealant.
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 10:15 PM UTC
I don't want to study.
But that's not the problem.
I don't want to go to class.
That's not the problem either.
But,
I don't want to watch movies or read books,
Or sing songs or play games.
I don't want to walk or eat,
Or at least try to sleep.
I just want to curl up in my bed,
In a fetal position like a cooked shrimp,
And think and think and think
About everything wrong about this life,
Or maybe pray that I'd just vanish into thin air,
So nothing would matter anymore.
Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 10:48 AM UTC
Animals in Antarctica
All drinking liquor
Ice on the flow of water
Some snow there as well
Zounds of baby walrus shrimp
The have big beards, they are so weird
The baby walrus shrimp!
William James
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 7:47 PM UTC