Linguine
Tag Archives: pencil sketch
Head Room
***HEAD ROOM. Once again, this is not the version that made it into the “Body-Oddies” book, but it’s clean and good and the publisher can’t complain. -Marsha
Eye Sores
***There is no clever poem or flash-fiction story for this one. I tried…but everything I wrote, sucked. It’s just one of those images that I was extremely happy with, as an image – alone. In fact, it happens quite a lot, and it’s rather amazing when a single image says everything I want it to say. Despite everything I wrote for the “Body-Oddies” book project, it seems better, overall, as an art book, uncluttered with written elements. And that’s cool with me. -John
Tongue in Cheek
Benjamin Young almost never appeared,
though his stand-up routines were revered.
The tongue in his cheek
made him seem like a freak,
and that was a little too weird.
***Two final versions of this sketch were done for use in our new book, “Body-Oddies,” one is the cover. This one, however, is only a clean-up of the original rough sketch and was not used in the book, and the publisher won’t let us post the good ones on social media, so we’re stuck posting rough sketches and shitty rejects. Only the BEST work goes into all our books. Find our first four books at our Etsy shop. Go to www.etsy.com and search EEWbooks. -Marsha
Pimple Face
Pimple Face Pat is a bubble of puss,
throbbing and itching to burst,
trying his best not to strain and fuss,
lest somebody squeezes him first.
Herbert had been prone to rashes since he was a kid. He caught them all, like a rash magnet…it was inexplicable. He had at least three rashes on any given day of his life. As a sickly nerd, he never had friends…..so how the heck did he get chicken pox? He never had sex, so where did he get crabs? Hell, he had rashes no one ever heard of. He was a spotty, itchy, miserable pariah (though he was a delight to his dermatologist).
Anyway, when the ‘Speckles’ showed up, Herbert was neither surprised nor alarmed…but when they became an infestation, weird stuff started happening. All his old rashes now had a rash of their own. The Speckles definitely did not respect other rashes’ turf. His chicken pox grew feathers and beaks, his goose bumps grew long necks and started nipping and spitting at other rashes and his scarlet fever?…WOW!… well…lets just say that when she reached puberty…things got REALLY awkward.
The Speckles went on to occupy every inch of Herbert and ousted all his other rashes – which would have been good except that each Speckle became enormous, grew a face and took on a personality of its own. They started talking amongst themselves – argued with each other constantly (about religion and politics, ugh!) and sang bawdy songs at all hours. It made things quite uncomfortable for Herbert, though not as bad as the realization that they’d become stronger, smarter and cooler than him. It wasn’t long before Herbert diminished completely into the shadow of his own brilliant speculations…
***Oh, how this reminds me of my teenage years…though my speckles were quite amiable and we were all into the same music. My new book, “Body-Oddies” is finally done and ready for the printer. Meanwhile, we DO have four other books for sale…find them at www.etsy.com and search EEWbooks. -Marsha
Game Face
Go sports! Go sports! Rah–rah–rah!
Kick the bishop in the shorts, sis–boom–bah!
***This was the original rough sketch for an illustration in our “Body-Oddies” project. I keep coming back to some roughs like this, even after I’ve already done a new, fully rendered version, because I simply like them better. The raw work just hits the mark sometimes. -John
Balls
***February 31st is my 114th birthday!!!…so naturally I feel compelled to show you my balls.
Two Faced
Mike was a two-faced liar…no, ‘liar’ was his last NAME.
He only had two faces, ’cause that was the way he came.
He also had seventeen toes, and a nine inch tail, which was flat,
and five short pricks that fit like a glove, but nobody cared about that!
Everyone hated a two-faced liar. They called it a curse and a sin,
but once he became the president, he actually fit right in.
Skipper the Clown
Business was going downhill fast
for a middle-aged clown named Skipper.
Until he applied at the local church,
who gave him a job as a stripper.
Now he has work almost every night,
’till well past three or four.
The fellas are sweet and tip really well,
but his ass is constantly sore.
NOTE: WordPress has found a way to prohibit me and other poets from posting my 8 line poem in the format I’ve used here for the last six-plus years. It will only post as a paragraph. They probably removed the feature so they can monetize it…’cause poets are sooooo rich. Well, FUCK you WordPress! Fuck your WordPress algorithm too! I hope you both die in a fiery fuckin’ plane crash! I’m tired of greedy incompetent fuckwads fuckin’ up basic shit.
***Tuesday is John’s 114th happy birthday! Write him a fuckin’ Happy Birthday message!!! But whatever you do, don’t tell facebook that February 9th is NOT his real birthday. It’s actually Feb. 31st…there’s just a problem with their stupid algorithm! (It has no sense of humor), but that’s what you get when you’re ruled by robots. We’re all doomed…have a nice day. -Marsha
Tommy
Tommy the Clown got sliced in half, to expose his charm and wit, but all I could see as he came apart was maggoty chunks of shit.
***A page from “Marsha Mellow’s Blue-ish Freaks”, the finest example of clown literature ever published in America. -Marsha