More Bullshit Poems

By Eric Gallagher

Throw away your desire to be happy and your ability to make sense of anything that happens to you in your dull, long, and tiring life and take a journey into th much less exceptional-than-he-thinks mind of self-proclaimed writer Eric Gallagher with this collection of over eighty poems, doodles, and stories. As you read, you may catch yourself saying things like, 'Who the hell is Eric Gallagher,' 'What's his point,' and, 'I'm hungry, I wonder what I should eat tonight.' That last on might not be brought on by this book, but there is a pretty good chance that someone somewhere will get hungry as they're reading this book. People get hungry at least three times a day, maybe more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eric Gallagher
• Release date: Nov 20, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311951625

Eric Gallagher

Eric Gallagher is a person who has done some things, and has other things that he would like to do. He has interests, accomplishments, and shortcomings.

Book preview

The Narratives.

The Minotaur

The thick, grimy hair of the Minotaur flowed across the chain that held its throat. As it swung its head angrily back and forth, it released a guttural noise that shook the gnats off its fur. Its rage came to a momentary halt, long enough for the beast to cast a menacing glare down into Daedalus’ frightened eyes. The Minotaur continued to fight against its shackles that ran from each limb to the wall, determined to free itself and drive its great horns into this small man’s meaty side.

Daedalus walked over to one side of the center wall of his labyrinth, touching the bolt that secured one of the chains that led to the arms of the great, stinking abomination. He knew he would have to release the thing soon. It was here for a purpose. He took a seat on the ground. His once white chiton now matched the color of the dirt. He was careful to keep a good distance away from the grasp of the horrible creature that loomed over him. He leaned against the wall, right below the base of a chain, and looked back up at the Minotaur. Daedalus could now see some fear in its yellowy eyes. This was something that he could not understand. The Minotaur was a monster. It should not fear. It was a thing to be feared.

No matter, though. It was time to release this monster and wait. Daedalus wasn’t quite sure how he was going to get back out of this maze of his own design, but he knew he would at least be safe from the Minotaur once he closed the heavy iron gate behind him and left the it to its closed quarters. He stood, and prepared himself to release the thing, save for the braces around its feet, which he assumed the beast could break out of itself with enough time for Daedalus to escape unscathed.

He took a rock from the floor, and began to hammer away at the shackles, one by one. First one arm, then the chain around its throat, then the next arm. When he was all finished, he took another look up into the eyes of the Minotaur, who now looked less frightened, and once again very angry. It thrashed and growled as Daedalus backed away, and began, with both hands, attacking the metal braces around its legs. One broke within seconds, prompting Daedalus to run quickly to the gate. Using all of his weight, he closed it behind him and lifted a thick, iron brace into place, locking the entrance shut.

Immediately after the second brace was broken, and immediately, the Minotaur charged the gate, fuming with hate and noise. Its horns fit through the lattice gate, but did not overcome it. Daedalus, standing on the other side and feeling rather confident, reached one hand up and touched one of its horns. The Minotaur growled a strained growl.

Please, Daedalus, it grunted, I have done no wrong. It is not my history I am being punished for.

The sudden vocalization of the beast surprised Daedalus, who jumped backward upon hearing its rough voice. Minos had not mentioned anything about the Minotaur’s ability to speak. Daedalus thought for a moment. Surely, a beast capable of articulating its pain did not deserve a fate such as this, but he knew it was not his place to decide such a thing.

History, said Daedalus, looking the Minotaur dead in one watery eye, is the nightmare from which I am trying to awaken.

Daedalus turned away, heading into the depths of his own labyrinth as the Minotaur wailed into the humid afternoon sky.

The Story of Reginald B. Rippington

Once upon a time, there was a bear. His name was Reginald B. Rippington, and he worked at the local Bank of America as a teller.

One day, an Octopus came into the Bank of America that Mr. Rippington worked at. The Octopus walked up to the counter and said, It’s racist that BoA won’t give mortgages to octopi. The Octopus took out a gun and shot Reginald in the face. Reginald’s life ended instantly. It also ended for no reason, the same reason for which life always ends.

But it’s okay, because in the sequel, Reginald comes back as a badass cyborg, and he fights crime with a sidekick who is a platypus. Plus, he still works