Porthole

Talking about SHIT... and other more pleasant things...

The 30DBC prompt: Respond to a current news story with your opinion. Share a link to the story if possible.

💩💩💩💩💩

Talking about SHIT
8.july.2019

States without regulations (or weak ones) are becoming the dumping ground for the nuclear leavings, the unwanted trash and just plain shit of regions that have restrictions.

https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/us/love-thy-neighbor-the-bible-belt-is-becoming-a...

The article focuses on South Carolina, Georgia and Alabama where cancer is already an issue from spills and mismanagement. And it could get worse. As states like New York and New Jersey tighten their restrictions, the South becomes the main dumping grounds.

But not just anywhere in the South. Rural communities are targeted and Black majority areas bear the brunt. I've seen this before... as the minority community in the inner city where I lived was far less healthy (think brown-fields and lead contaimnation) than the 95% white suburbs.

Poverty and race are ugly American issues. Not that this doesn't exist elsewhere but many Americans simply choose to not see what makes them feel uncomfortable.

And those Northern communities? Their shit stinks too... just ask the Alabamans.

Originally an entry for my blog:

BOOK

Watt's Gnus  (18+) On topics and today's gnus. Definitely opinionated. Set to 18+ for a reason. #1439092 by Kåre เลียม Enga

This flash fiction may qualify as an opener to a longer story about Mrs. Reginald Brown (as Arakun the twisted raccoon suggested).

The room had been locked for twenty years. There was no mail under the door. Nothing to indicate anyone still lived there but the rent was paid up so no one asked questions. The new manager told us he had never been in the room, being reluctant to pry.

But Mattie had batted her toy under the door and now we were curious. We quietly picked the lock and looked around. It felt wrong somehow. As if something had been lost and never searched for and therefore never found. ... cont'd...

Continued in ...

STATIC

Never searched for, never found [143]294  (18+) Flash fiction under 300 words. Prompt: lost, nothing, book #2195269 by Kåre เลียม Enga

It's my friend Joyce's 89th birthday. So it pimply-sissed this afternoon... I wrote:

The Goddess of Lightning graces us with her gusts from the south,

forces herself through the screen mesh,

wets a 2 dollar coin I was given in Prizren.

With four fingers I twirl it's scalloped edges minted in Hong Kong.

As the world spins the rains swirl around us.

It's been a wet year. ...cont'd...

Continued in "The Goddess of Lightning speaks" 




The weekly poetry form is a clerihew. So... thinking of Joyce I wrote one for her and then wrote 4 more. Eventually one will be listed as my official entry into Andy's Ultimate Poetry Challenge but for now:

Hail birthday girl Joyce
the gentleman's choice
who wait for her sighting
with each bolt of lightning

Found in: "Clerihews" 

82