the only thing that threw him off
this morning suggested that last nights rumbuzz still affected him was that he
fumbled the little stinking rubber ball they had him manipulate while he
was on apheresis(platelet donation: He was a Fucking Hero) -- one
time --
he put it on the ground -- though he made startled eye contact with one
of managements staff and she quickly(attractively) scurried around her desk came
out through her office doorway fell on it recovering it and returned it into his
hand
they tried not to make too much
of it
her valiant effort on his behalf
provided him face stoked his reserve of
humility
he was on the machine for eightythree
minutes
he was trying to trim it to sixty
an interior competition
his rumbuzz had him in a fascinating mindset it evoked youthful Miami mornings coloured sunrises blushed sand beaches(not sorry to say sand bitches) rushing headlong into the Atlantic surf to help curb whatever high he was negotiating
he was baptised and anointed in its
light in the new day in the promise of the coming evening
he lived for nights in those days
for their coy shadowed lust blatant apostasy and sensual riot
out of his rumbuzz out his arm his
blood flowed
suddenly he found himself recalling The Abominable Dr Phibes
Phibes Rises Again Vincent Price the price
Michael Jackson payed though no Phibes Resurrectus Brides of Phibes
or his
Seven Fates followed despite studios then buying lock
stock and barrel into monotonous sequels Stallone Rocky Eastwood Dirty Harry which they
and their ilk churned out madly like fresh butter
hands fast and wrapped about the plunger
it tossed into the air like a baseball bat for choosing up sides at a pickup
game
Jesushe choked
he rocked back on his heels tightened his ass cheeks
he began to think better about not being a judgy sonofabitch
he rocked back on his heels tightened his ass cheeks
he began to think better about not being a judgy sonofabitch
wasnt he doing the same in the
ruminduced bloodtapped lalaland behind his eyes
he closed them
he didnt want the attendants or nurses or anyone else to haphazardly peer in and catch the flickering show -- inverted -- projected on the back of his corneas
he didnt want the attendants or nurses or anyone else to haphazardly peer in and catch the flickering show -- inverted -- projected on the back of his corneas
he was keen to that trick he learned
it one-night-only watching a selection of eight millimetre blue flicks projected
on the front windows pull blind of his neighbors house by their idiot boys
he knew they were stupid
he went to school with them
though he didnt understand the depth
of their stupidity until then
or their selfishness
had they included him there would
never have been the fiasco the lawn chairs setup on their front lawn the bowls
of popcorn the quiet chatter others standing on the parkway with their dogs on
leash Police squads later angled on the street to block traffic protect the
commonweal and lavishly setting up the weasels inside for when their parents
returned
fucking lugs
but at the very least they had an
original idea
there wasnt a sequel to it
it would have been worth the reams
of celluloid to capture(it obviously still spun on his brain reels and coils)
but to-days media is muzzled by risk-aversion overseers whose profit-margins
are salted away with jingoism yellow-journalism bromides and slick turds uncovered
in the aforementioned
this tethered reverie
he really dug it
he really dug it
but he dug anything that was unexpected
wafting in and out back and forth he rode pinfeathers of consciousness and then suddenly derived peeking out from his mud an obscene sense that tickled his funnybone made him laugh in hiccups
perhaps this donation would also share with whomever was in the unfortunate or dire circumstance to receive it that they would realise these odd snatches he was experiencing as they were surely etched into the facets of his playtelets Faulkner chiding “ all man had was time, all that stood before between him and the death he feared and abhorred was time yet he spent half of it inventing ways of getting the other half past” his “agony of naked inanesthetisable nerve-ends which for lack of a better word (was) called being alive” or Kazins Kazins why Kazin his commiseration the high price paid for “the permanent crisis that is the truth of our times, the truth that cannot be fitted in, the jagged edges that would detract from the simple straight frame and the smooth design”
he either hallucinated or they welled-up from some deep subterranean fissure or store or frittered by the wind they punctuated the aether like broken ash
rumbuzzed
hed have to do this again
1320, Friday,
6 5. 16
1349,
Saturday, 7 5. 16
Seal of Good Practise https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nyrdRo8CQ3w
Painkiller – Buried Secrets
-- Guts of a Virgin https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d075v_dl6lc
