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[Father Luke]

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What is LiteraryMary Tennis?

The idea is simple. I write. You change it and poast it back to the forum. Repeat until finished.

The idea is simple but, when talented writers play the game, the results are nice.

Here goes...




A Small Press Nightmare

Her tattoo was blurry.
The room smelled of wine and cat piss.

The typer had fresh paper in it.
The hotel room had only a bare bulb for light.

Syringes were scattered here and there
along the threadbare carpeting.

Ash trays filled with butts,
spilling across couches with stuffing poking from the arm rests.

No metaphors could be found.
Not anywhere.

[Tobacco]

crybaby me a>
A blub crybaby me rebla />

bla quack crybaby me la />in bla blah of blah bla bla crybaby me  />
& blub blub in it,
bla blub blah blah blah blah blah bla blub,
crybaby me  bla crybaby me s. crybaby me ed blah bla crybaby me a />   quack crybaby me are
blub blub quack to crybaby me gbla />blub crybaby me ' crybaby me g blah bla bla blub.

No quack blub crybaby me e.

[Father Luke]

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_{(By the way? Anyone can start their own just name it Volley#2 - Volley #3... etc...)}

[Nick]

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Mary Night Peace Work

Her tatts are blurred by wine
She smells kinda like cat piss

I tap on the butcher papered typer
as the rooms bulb dances from the cord
(fucking trains)

My rig is darted in the wall
Won't need it anymore, finally met God

Ashtrays everywhere
All overfilled
That babe can sure suck some butt

Gotta finish this piece
Get some sack time
Tomorrows horror dawns early