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[realexplodingcat]

Today I wrote a poem using other people's words. The non-italicized words are my own, the rest are from three other sources (one of which I actually don't know if there's an author to credit). Bonus points to those who recognize the other two. Should be fairly obvious if you like the same sorta stuff I do.

Home is where the heart is.
The heart is under three planks from the flooring of the chamber.
It was a low, dull, quick sound,
beating a rhythm to the vision that's in my head,
a beat to the sight of me lying.
That unmistakable sound I know so well.
Tear up the planks!--here, here!--it is the beating of his hideous heart!

Comments

my new installment

[adoka.livejournal.com]

writing 101 my second installment of co-op writing project
I drew my piece out of the bag, checked the clip and slid it back in. It was a good pistol. No one thinks of the Czechs making good weapons but the CZ-75 is an good piece of work and it takes a silencer with a bit of work from a gunsmith. Ok, I told myself, it's probably only a security guard. Ratchet it down a notch. You don't need to whack a Wackenhut goon.

http://www.livejournal.com/users/adoka/183861.html#cutid1

Re: my new installment

[explodingcat.livejournal.com]

If you have an eye on my journal, you might have noticed me post my 2nd installment there already. It got too long to fit in a comment. But it probably makes sense to keep at least keep references to the installments in the comments of this post. At least one central place.

"I decided Jackie ought to remain a mystery. Trying to focus on remaining hellbent for Corpus Christi, I didn't want to stop again until at least the border. But Jackie Belancourt's voice still whispered in my ear..."

http://www.livejournal.com/users/explodingcat/37873.html#cutid1 (http://www.livejournal.com/users/explodingcat/37873.html#cutid1)