The Poetry Question

Discovering the Relevance of Words

QOTD- Did You Read About That Whale About To Explode All Over Canada?


I read a story in the news today about a little town in Canada currently living with a massive blue whale carcass on the beach and no ideas on how to handle it.

I related to this story, because here’s the thing: This is how I feel ALL THE TIME.

The whale is filling with methane as we speak. The thing is inflated like a balloon, like a fat guy trying to hold in a fart at church*. It doesn’t look comfortable. Even less comfortable are the town’s few citizens, who aren’t sure if and when the thing is going to explode. And exploding whales are no joke. I’m from Oregon, we know from exploding whales. I’d put in a link to the video of that whale getting blown up on the Oregon coast years ago, but you’ve already seen it, so you already know what I’m talking about. It was not a great idea.

My point is this: If I don’t write, I’m going to explode. Like a whale on a beach. And it is gonna be a huge mess for everyone involved. The ideas will build up in my head like the gases produced by a decomposing leviathan until I find myself beached and in Canada, surrounded by people in windbreakers holding their noses and taking selfies.

No, I’m not thrilled with the imagery comparing me to a whale on a beach, but it is so damn appropriate. When I don’t write I feel mentally bloated and slow and full of stinking fumes that no amount of finger-pulling can ease. I’m just not sure I thought about it in those disgusting terms until I read about the people of Trout River and their big, blubbery problem.**

I’m going to do something about it. I’ll write this weekend, Trout River. That is my promise to you. I’m not sure how this will help you at all, but I’m gonna do it anyway.

Will you write something this weekend? Do it for the whale. And Newfoundland.



*One of the quiet kinds of church. Like the ones white people go to.

** No, not diabetes. I’m still talking about the whale.


About Doran Simmons

I'm a writer and a camper and a keeper of fish. I was trained as a flight instructor and work day jobs and write nonsense for public consumption (hopefully).

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