Their need is visceral. Oh! Pretty blonde girl, fresh trailer park trash, junkyard dogs snarl and quarrel over your flesh— tongues wag to get at your bones. Twelve years old, and your marrow is aromatic. Mother’s a full-time drunk, and you only got a part-time daddy. Good luck, babe; welcome to Contaminated Manor.Continue reading “Viscera in Danger (revamp)”
Let’s lounge beneath a 60’s sun in the heat of mid-July; we’ll smoke full flavored cigarettes, and drink Tom Collinses while The Animals play. I love spinning records–It’s My Life. We’ll call out the neighbors with our vinyl airwaves heavy in the heat haze. Block party–yes!
Teeth chew hearts and desecrate souls, but stand idle on the streets, munching the fucking sammich you paid for with a credit card. Conversate with friends: “Lookit what they’re doing to her.” “It’s awful. But what can we do?” Goddamn it, you’ve got red on you. Ketchup on your precious pressed shirt– never mind theContinue reading “It’s awful, isn’t it?”
Blue “belongs” to the Twats living directly next door to me. Blue manages to slip his collar almost daily. Today, I was driving home from an appointment when I received a text message from my daughter. Blue is loose, and he is taunting Melvin at the window. Fanfuckingtastic. Melvin isn’t well at the moment, and heContinue reading “Blue: not my damn dog”