Eva Moe

Tag: quickwrite

  • It’s Halloween Again / weather’s acting up

    It's a half-open otherworld lately. 
    Misty metallic air, an atmosphere woven with ghosts.
    Rain's electricity fragrance. 

    It's Spring, though. Says so right here. 
    The weather even searches for softball.
    			Pull a tarot card. 
     			Candles puff their ominous orange flowers
    There's a twinkle in the eye of every pond
    glitter in the inhale
    exhale 
    of dusk and dawn
     			and all of us can fly. 
    Trees crack their backs and 
     			All black cats can talk.
    Birds chirp.
     			Your window opens.

  • The Attack of the Quarantine Karens

    On April 20, 2020, three Karens from different cities in the United States of America banded together. Their mission was to open every non-essential business across America. But their bond went deeper than their selfish need for haircuts. Yes. Though their gray roots sprouted several inches past their usual bleach session, what brought them together was their collective need to scream at anyone who made less money than them. 

    The three Karens drove from all across the country to get to Minneapolis, Minnesota. One came from Denver, Colorado. One came from Lansing, Michigan. And the final Karen hailed from Atlanta, Georgia. 

    “You liberal scum you leotard hangliding riff raff scallywag yellowbelly mommy yupping gum cock,” They chanted collectively under their breath. “You’ll never tell me what to do. Not ME. My body. MY rights.” They went through this long bizzare phrase until they blushed with fatigue. 

    “Governor Tim Walz will not let these ladies get haircuts,” said Lansing Karen, motioning to her surroundings. The streets were empty, save a few cars. 

    “Our government is losing its mind,” Atlanta Karen said. “All we need to do is get Trump down here and fix everything.” 

    Just then, a popping sound echoed through their empty heads. 

    “What is this?” Denver Karen pushed her gooey fingers into her ears.

    “It’s like Pop Rocks!” Atlanta Karen screamed. “I only know because my 37 year old son eats them everyday with his breakfast. He’s a strong boy, he really is.” 

    “MAKE IT STOP,” Bellowed Lansing Karen, clutching her ears. 

    “You cannot make it stop,” came a loud voice from below. The three Karens looked down. At their feet stood an army of 1-inch creatures. There must’ve been a few hundred of them. Their bodies were neon green and smooth. The army took up the same space as two standard-size SUV tires (new tires, like from a lease). 

    “Only we can stop it,” said the creature. With that, he snapped his tiny fingers and the popping noise stopped. 

    Atlanta Karen put her hands on her hips and narrowed her beady eyes. “And who do you think you are, exactly?” 

    “We are the virus,” he replied. “And unfortunately for everyone here, nature is healing.” 

    The three Karens signed the cross, turned in a circle and spit. “You can’t say those words here!” 

    “My name is Covid,” continued the 1-inch creature. He gestured to his army, “And these are the Chads. We can help you three brave women achieve your goals. You want to dye those roots? Done. You need to pick up some overly-religious birthday cards for your gay niece in a longrunning effort to smack the devil out of her? Done. You want to drink vodka sodas at your favorite tiki bar? Done. All we need is one small favor.” 

    The three karens turned to each other in a huddle. All three heads touched, though their hair was sharpened with copious amounts of hairspray and poked each other’s eyes. They finished their muttering and turned to Covid, crossing their arms. 

    “We’re going to need to speak to your manager,” They said in unison, turning up their noses. 

    Covid furrowed his brows. “That’s obviously me,” he snapped. “I literally just said…nevermind.” 

    At this, a seething rage went through all three karens. So strong that their bodies lifted into the air as a single thought raced through them. How dare this tiny neon asparagus head talk to me like this. The tone! 

    —

    Long story short, Chad and the Covids took over the brains of the three Karens, who in turn rounded up an angry mob of dumbasses. They all became infected, millions of people died. Fortunately, most of these deaths were the dumbest and greediest people on the planet. This has positively affected the bell curve of idiocy. Humanity is collectively more intelligent now. 

    Once Chad and the Covids succeeded in reducing overpopulation by way of eliminating evildoers (their true goal all along), they sunk back into the Earth and became seeds. Over the next few years, humanity saw a surge of beautifully tall trees pop up all over the world, one by one. 

    You want to know about the other people who needlessly died because of the Karens? They were some of the kindest and hardworking people humanity had. Doctors, nurses, grocery store clerks, garbage handlers. Their names are engraved in glass sculptures all over the world. 

  • Lemon Water

    Yesterday, I flipped through my journal and found the section of doodled faces. I wrote this draft based on the drawing.

  • From the Notebook: Fluency

  • The Red Dawn | La Madrugada Roja quickwrite

    I’m sorry but I can’t write a poem for you. There was nothing beautiful about your death I wasn’t even there, I heard about it on Snapchat when our buds were at your wake & thought how fuckin lame is my relationship with my friends that I’m the last to know & then I thought you’d give me a big ole smack of words, you destroyer, for making your absence about me. I can’t write about it, I’m sorry. Every literary device I throw down sits in my mouth like raw garlic & nothin’s sweet or sour, Madrugada. What’d you do when they told ya? look in the mirror & tell your brain “you bastard”? look at your hands & wish they could fish hook it out of your skull like a scab? Did you deny your body’s betrayal or did you find it consistent? I can’t put it together. You know when the chemistry teacher says a gas will expand to fit its container? It’s just like that. All I wanna do is turn these poetic particles into liquid so at least they’d flow like the rushing stream of your memory but I’m all dried up. All I could do was pour Bacardi down the sink, I gave you two shots but didn’t tell because my roommate was callous and would hound me for wasting alcohol. I thought about you in Malaysia during a sunrise & spoke your name, La Madrugada Roja. You died seven months ago but this is the best I could do.

  • Rubber Trees in Malaysia

    To me it looked like a regular young forest
    Liang said they’re Rubber Trees
    to be cut down on their fifth birthday
    i picture the entire forest falling down on the trampoline ground
    bouncing back into place
    a lumberjack’s nightmare