“Home is Where the Heart Is” by Charlie Centipede

Home is where the heart is. We keep it in a big glass jar. It’s pretty gross, and for all these years, somehow, it’s still beating. We don’t even feed it!

—Charlie Centipede

About richardfyates

Compulsive creator of the bizarre and absurd. (Artist, writer, poet, provocateur...)
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2 Responses to “Home is Where the Heart Is” by Charlie Centipede

  1. Yeah, my brother’s home is my chest. I keep forgetting to go back to his grave and give his heart back.

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