Matthew Revert's Blog - Posts Tagged "matthew-revert"
An interview starring me
You most likely fall in one of three categories.
1) You've read 'A Million Versions of Right'
2) You're somewhat interested in reading 'A Million Versions of Right'
3) You have no interest
If you fall into one of the first two categories, you may be interested in an interview I recently 'starred' in courtesy of the great, Pascal-Denis Lussier.
http://fullofcrow.com/prate/2009/12/m...
Chipper,
M
1) You've read 'A Million Versions of Right'
2) You're somewhat interested in reading 'A Million Versions of Right'
3) You have no interest
If you fall into one of the first two categories, you may be interested in an interview I recently 'starred' in courtesy of the great, Pascal-Denis Lussier.
http://fullofcrow.com/prate/2009/12/m...
Chipper,
M
House Plant Seduction
This piece of writing originally appeared here:
http://clockworkfather.wordpress.com/...
House plants are remarkable things. One minute they’re a sprout in a sensible pot and the next, they seem hellbent on seducing your girlfriend of 78 years. I didn’t know the plant had designs on my sweetie until he wrote her an, admittedly poor, sonnet. He read it aloud in a voice I’d noticed him rehearsing from time to time. The voice was like a slightly less masculine Sarah Jessica Parker, only it contained more shame. I guess I thought he was practicing for a botanical play of some sort.
Prudence arrived at 7 pm each night to spend the evening with me, playing confusing board games and mimicking lavatories. It was a clockwork tradition that had been occurring since our teenage years. She would never stay long, usually 15 minutes or so, but it was enough. By the time Prudence left, the faint scent of repressed masturbation always permeated my home – enough to ensure I didn’t forget her.
On the night of the attempted seduction, Prudence arrived as she always did, appearing at my door and batting away the swarm of gravy bees that always seemed to follow her around. She flashed a bright denture grin and I tickled her chin with a comb. After helping her off with all nine coats, she took a seat and began drinking from the vase of Mountain Dew I’d prepared in advance.
It wasn’t long before Prudence was wowing me with a completely accurate impression of a German, post-war lavatory. I tried to clap in appreciation but as usual, my hands kept missing each other like cursed lovers. If lavatory impersonation consists of peaks, Prudence was about to reach hers when the plant decided to make his move. He rubbed himself suggestively with a spindly growth and read his sonnet. Prudence froze in confusion and my mouth dropped like a bowel movement.
My composure managed to find itself mid-sonnet. I crossed my arms and prepared my mouth for a dismissive scoff. I didn’t get it out though. Prudence was still frozen and what’s worse, her sagging cheeks were filling with blush. The whale song her crotch was singing suggested one thing – she was actually getting amorous! Can you believe it? I’d never seen her like this before. The one time I tried to get her in the mood – back in the ‘40s from memory – she threw up on my mother. It didn’t seem fair.
As if in a voodoo trance, she started walking toward the plant, working her lips into a wet pucker. It was my turn to freeze now as I watched Prudence plant her lips on a hard, throbbing leaf. In the seconds following the kiss, the plant withered and died, gallantly proclaiming that it had ‘no regrets’ in the process.
Prudence and I stood staring at each other for a few awkward days before either of us dared speak. It was clear our whirlwind romance was over . Neither of us took much convincing and Prudence left without even finishing her Mountain Dew.
…
So the time passes and I get back on my feet. There’s no point clinging to lost love – it just leads to excessive consumption of Joy Division tunes. I’ve been frequenting those venues that purportedly have a lot of single women, like marble shops and panic rooms. I have no doubt I’ll find my next Prudence. As for Prudence herself, I hear she spends her days cruising nurseries, looking for her next amorous fix. I wish her luck. She’s not a bad gal and she can impersonate a lavatory better than anyone else I’ve ever met.
The End
http://clockworkfather.wordpress.com/...
House plants are remarkable things. One minute they’re a sprout in a sensible pot and the next, they seem hellbent on seducing your girlfriend of 78 years. I didn’t know the plant had designs on my sweetie until he wrote her an, admittedly poor, sonnet. He read it aloud in a voice I’d noticed him rehearsing from time to time. The voice was like a slightly less masculine Sarah Jessica Parker, only it contained more shame. I guess I thought he was practicing for a botanical play of some sort.
Prudence arrived at 7 pm each night to spend the evening with me, playing confusing board games and mimicking lavatories. It was a clockwork tradition that had been occurring since our teenage years. She would never stay long, usually 15 minutes or so, but it was enough. By the time Prudence left, the faint scent of repressed masturbation always permeated my home – enough to ensure I didn’t forget her.
On the night of the attempted seduction, Prudence arrived as she always did, appearing at my door and batting away the swarm of gravy bees that always seemed to follow her around. She flashed a bright denture grin and I tickled her chin with a comb. After helping her off with all nine coats, she took a seat and began drinking from the vase of Mountain Dew I’d prepared in advance.
It wasn’t long before Prudence was wowing me with a completely accurate impression of a German, post-war lavatory. I tried to clap in appreciation but as usual, my hands kept missing each other like cursed lovers. If lavatory impersonation consists of peaks, Prudence was about to reach hers when the plant decided to make his move. He rubbed himself suggestively with a spindly growth and read his sonnet. Prudence froze in confusion and my mouth dropped like a bowel movement.
My composure managed to find itself mid-sonnet. I crossed my arms and prepared my mouth for a dismissive scoff. I didn’t get it out though. Prudence was still frozen and what’s worse, her sagging cheeks were filling with blush. The whale song her crotch was singing suggested one thing – she was actually getting amorous! Can you believe it? I’d never seen her like this before. The one time I tried to get her in the mood – back in the ‘40s from memory – she threw up on my mother. It didn’t seem fair.
As if in a voodoo trance, she started walking toward the plant, working her lips into a wet pucker. It was my turn to freeze now as I watched Prudence plant her lips on a hard, throbbing leaf. In the seconds following the kiss, the plant withered and died, gallantly proclaiming that it had ‘no regrets’ in the process.
Prudence and I stood staring at each other for a few awkward days before either of us dared speak. It was clear our whirlwind romance was over . Neither of us took much convincing and Prudence left without even finishing her Mountain Dew.
…
So the time passes and I get back on my feet. There’s no point clinging to lost love – it just leads to excessive consumption of Joy Division tunes. I’ve been frequenting those venues that purportedly have a lot of single women, like marble shops and panic rooms. I have no doubt I’ll find my next Prudence. As for Prudence herself, I hear she spends her days cruising nurseries, looking for her next amorous fix. I wish her luck. She’s not a bad gal and she can impersonate a lavatory better than anyone else I’ve ever met.
The End
