Poem: The Anti-Nothing


What lingers on the other side of nothing?
What squirms in the pit
Where blackholes dump their trash?
Spew their collections?
Bury their loot?

Slippery lip
Where the universe spills over its edge
Into somethingness
Anti-nothingness
Perfect newness

Colors hum there
Matter, mass
Fresh amoebas
Foreign, congealing
Into new music, novel mist

That random place where anti-dust & anti-heat
Implode & churn out anti-light
Anti-matter springs, unfolds
Anti-worlds & anti-words
Anti-poems, anti-songs

Anti-planets, anti-suns
Ante up in the anti-space
Where Auntie Em looks down in black & white
Swabbing the head with an anti-rag
Dipped in antique water

Anti-thoughts in the anti-mind
Swim around in the anti-time
Where far & near are upside down
Anti-pulsars spin around
In retrograde

The anti-wormholes are antebellum
Post-apocalyptic felons
Anti-war & anti-peace
Anti-teeth in anti-jaws
Speak anti-rules & anti-laws
While living anti-true & false

Pooling up & cooling down
In the land where life creates itself
To shake the known with quasar-quakes

Giving birth
On the inside of everything
Nothing included
Nothing reborn
As something

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$230K for My Writing!


Within the space of an hour, I received $230,000 for my writing!
[Sounds like a cheesy “Work From Home” commercial doesn’t it?]

Really, I did. Kind of.
Unfortunately, the cash isn’t legal tender.

It happened during the game of “Life” – $80,000 for writing a bestseller, then $150,000 for writing the great American novel. I’m not sure if they were the same book or not. Not wanting to be a one-hit wonder, I’m pretending each prize stemmed from separate novels.

If only Life was more like Ouija or a Magic 8 Ball. Then, I could definitely trust it to be an oracle… Then again, that would also mean I have Twins on the way, and “Tornado hits house! Pay $125,000 if not insured.”  That’ll cost me over half my royalties! (Unless I went the responsible route and paid the ten grand for the insurance. I didn’t.)

During this particular game of Life, I was the winner. I retired at Millionaire Estates and collected the additional “Life” cards. In my golden years, I won the Nobel Peace Prize – $250,000. Surely, this was the result of yet more phenomenal writing.

Looking back over my Life, I believe I know where all the success came from. Zooming along in my little white plastic car, wife at my side, twin boys in the back, I landed on a space that changed it all. “Mid-life crisis. Start new career.” Hmmm…

Now, the game is packed away. The spinner is stilled, and all the little pink and blue figures are piled in a jumpled mess at the bottom of the box. The idea and hope of successful writing is clinging to me out here in reality.

I’m still waffling over whether to include those writing accomplishments in my next batch of real-life queries. I might lead off with them in the opening paragraph. If I’ve learned nothing else, I know Life throws good and bad experiences at you when you least expect them. Why play if you’re not willing to take the risk? (Risk: That’s another game entirely…)