Trypophobia

Ding-dong. Oh, the door…
How Lovely! A bouquet crosses the threshold from the person who delivered the joy. Deliver me, deliver me, deliver me from evil, deliver me from evil. Cradle the blossoms on my bosom, the bosoms of my blossoms. Inhale sweetness, lids close, open softly, rose-colored glasses crack and crumble down my cheeks like pink crystalline tears because there are many eyes, many eyes, many eyes, looking back at me. There they are:

Holes!
Oh Holes!
The Holey-est of Holes

Cycle of lotus life before me and behind me, gaping holes, clusters, no pattern, no pattern, no pattern. Irrational or not, it’s real, I am not afraid, I am repulsed. Face squishes, eyes squint, grimace with deep elevens. Eleven, eleven, eleven, seven-eleven. Pin pricks, diseased flesh, infected first layer then second until that glance seeps within you like maple syrup from the turnip tree. There they are:

Holes!
Oh Holes!
The Holey-est of Holes

The woman from South Texas petrified of lady bugs. Yes, lady bugs. She stored herself in the safety of the broom closet. Evolutionary, the collective unconscious. Become a broom, become Miss Osborne the mop, become anything but the ladybug. Help me, help me. As I grow red wings, cracking my bones, and breaking my back. There she goes, fly, fly, fly away yesterday.

NaPoWriMo 2026 – Day 5 Prompt: Today, your challenge is to take a page from Catullus and Darwin, and write a poem in which you talk about disliking something – particularly something utterly innocuous, like clover. Be over the top! Be a bit silly and overdramatic.

Hello there! I am just now catching up on some writing this evening. Exhaustion was the heavy blanket over me for the last few days. Out of nowhere but I’m back. I’m not sure where I was going with this and I like it that way. Just a stream of consciousness. I was reading and listening to Gertrude Stein earlier – inspiration indeed. Take care, talk soon.

Photo: https://www.schoepfung.eu/landschaften-pflanzen/pflanzen/indischer-lotos/lotoskapsel/