Sea cow

I am a manatee. I excel at being a manatee. I am a manatee in a man’s world. I swim amidst the yachts at the marina. Sometimes I feel compelled to poop on them. My thoughts are all tremendous. It’s a wonder this ocean can hold them. My tail is worth its weight in pearls. The dock pilings lean orgasmic when I make ripples, swimming by. If you are a boat propeller, you have another thing coming. That thing is my dong. In the end, everything will sink, but I will still be on top. There are fish, and there are sea cows. It’s an unhappy fate if your lesser heart can’t grasp the distinction.


3 Thoughts on “Sea cow

  1. I love this: “For the most part, MFA students who choose to write memoirs are narcissists using the genre as therapy.”

    I always used to think that.

  2. Ariell, I liked this quote from that kid who just won an Oscar for The Imitation Game:

    “I feel there are three modes of writers. First are the super autobiographical writers who take something that has happened to them and translate it beautifully onto the page, and I am fascinated by that, because if you put a gun to my head and asked me to do it, I couldn’t. I would say that the second type, I call them blank-page writers, are people who come up with a world: a J.K. Rowling or an Orson Scott Card, who make up a universe populated with characters, with rules, and it’s based on nothing but the strength of their imagination. If you put a gun to my head, I could not do that sort of work. Every now and then I get half a mind to try and then I realize, nope, I have no idea what I’m doing. I find myself in a third type of writer: I need a constraint. I need something to push against.”

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