Member-only story
Poetry and illustration
Entry in the Subdictionary 2025–03–31
The first of maybe not any many
Schadenfreudenfreude:
Joy in the misery of self-misery
Epicaricacy for me! Whee!
Delectatio speculosa morosa, sucker!
I’m watching a whole in my hand with every car accident in the world
But I can’t smell the smoke
Or the charring meat
What a treat
Watching the crumble
Bumble grumble
It hurts so slow
Gotta go
Dopa-mean dopa-mine dopa-ours
And hours
___
By Doodleslice 2025–03–29
Dear friends, I know what you’re thinking, where is that gentle sunshine of yesterweek? Trapped! Trapped it is, I say! There! Behind that bulwark of bilious gray fluff leaning so heavily, oppressively, gloomily, down — a fence in grisaille over that immaculate blue that resides now only in hope and memory.
I’m as a fickle as the weather and you’re right to point it out. I sit now in grotted grit, seeking gratitude as tiny ants discover my tender ankles —…
