Portmanteau de toilette

I’m discovering the portmanteaus I’m coming up with don’t seem to translate to prose anywhere near as well as to lyrics. Kinda sad.  I’ve got to find a way to integrate great ones like “entropath” and “socioderangement”.

I wonder if I could publish the ton of lyrics/unmetered words I have without doing prose. I’ve done about a page of a novel (but have some great outlines) and am creating a character and setting that is interesting to me, but I’m so unused to writing prose fiction that it feels restrictive.

For example, if I were going to render Burroughs’ “No, this is not a good town for psychedelic drugs. Reality itself is too twisted” into a form I more enjoyed, I’d write something like this (sans context; I’m writing what I’d take and extrapolate/embellish from imagination.  It helps that I don’t remember a lot of Fear and Loathing):

so vulgar
so banal
the predation is palpable
Dilapidus and Drudge
the apatheosic assailantry
But a flick of the vein
and blessed ascendant reminders
draw feral landscapes and ambrosial paths
And I follow their alluring torpor
as the deities fade impassively
They know others
shall soon yield in thralldom.

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