15 Feb 2008

Oh, the ignominy: got mugged for my ears again last night. My assailant left me gasping in pain as he waddled off on flippers like an enormous seal.

No health insurance, so I was forced to visit a tailor who repaired one raw unwanted gash with a zipper, the other with a button-up fly. He made smacking sounds with his lips and spat an unwanted tooth into the fireplace.

The radio went out of tune with itself, playing bootleg copies of Loudpenny’s “Bismuth Army” as tiny shadows shimmied up the fire-escape. Those sullen crab-claw choppers that you call hands have been phoning my old house again. Raze the penitentiary! Build a shrine from cotton daily.

I dream about string almost constantly now: pale, waxy knots of rope; peach-coloured wool bound loosely around your ankles. Fur-balls and skeins of yarn; webs of hair that hang provocatively from your tongue on little nooses spun from glistening threads of human spittle.

4 comments:

jaan said...

were you observing my last few days,
jeez that just sounds like it_lol
funny as hell!

kek-w said...

LOL!

Robert said...

the similarity between your stuff and mine lately is astounding, Kek

when you see my upcoming chapbook, youre gonna be like, "That #@!* has been reading me a little TOO closely" LMAO!!

and Murmurists is just plain going to own my first-born

when Jaan stops being like that and bears my children LOL!!!

Forrest Armstrong said...

...I was forced to visit a tailor who repaired one raw unwanted gash with a zipper...

...webs of hair that hang provocatively from your tongue on little nooses spun from glistening threads of human spittle...


What terrific imagery! Glad to see some of your work on here, Kek (considering I've only joined a few days ago I haven't read the sort of stuff you put up on Discharge yet... great work!)