Saturday, September 25, 2010

DOING THE BLANCMANGE

Very, but very early, one late September morning. Heads back to front. Heads and tails back to front.

Inside out, Peter watched the harlequin jester tumble and jingle from out of his left ear into his right and back to centre stage again. She had somersaulted to a hoppity halt between the point of Peter’s nose and his backdrop of thinning, but slightly curly hair. She stared into Peter’s blue eyes and lifted two fingers that cut the stare in an insolent salute.


“Stare you out anytime, dickhead....So! Now you know! This is where it all begins and ends....”

And she stared, over theatrically, of course, around the gloomy theatre, arms outstretched, palms upwards, Cheshire cat grin and lopsided bow included.

“....Here, baby....Right here!....Not much of an infinite space, is it?....Full moon though!”

And Peter saw his eardrums hear what he had just seen, and outside, in the real world, Peter, Alba and The Pretty Girl’s grey matter did The Blancmange together, oh, ooh, aaah, so sweetly, to such strange music.

But then came sunrise and silent blindness forever.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

KILLER PREGNANCY TESTERS

....pull down these peach skin jeans I am desperate dear dying to eat the fruit peel down these peach skin jeans for me to smear my lips in the juice shimmy down these peach skin jeans for me this heavenly fruit on my tongue....

....Jan Mutts had been deckchair sunbathing all day, had been a deckchair all day circus red blue and orange stripes and obese lobster pink, when he stood up, eventually, he fell headlong off the beach....

....pull down those peach skin jeans I am desperate dear dying to eat the fruit peel down those peach skin jeans for me to smear my lips in the juice shimmy down those peach skin jeans for me that heavenly fruit hides no stone....

....reach out, reach, overreach, he fell headlong off the sunshine yellow beach beach hut padlocked all clean and tidy split his lip, broke his nicotine brown bad breath teeth on a rock the size of cloud covered Snowdon overripe stone open edge slices into his bloody red tongue brown stone dead....


....stone dead....

....then his right hand hit the floorboards and the grisly curtain goes up on late morning grey housing estate condensation on grey windowpanes cigarette smoke stale net curtains hangover takeaway kebab breath digoxin dioxin atorvastatin eighteen hours stale urine and sweat unemployed unemployable unwashed unshowered spunk on the floor glued The Sun topless teenagers rage instant coffee mould in sink drains coffee cup rings ring headlines from days ago Killer Pregnancy Testers Shred Astronaut....

....the Green Knight of The Forest had just delivered us from the broad back of his huge warhorse muscular right arm for support.... reach out, reach, overreach, he and his mount, fell headlong off the sunshine yellow beach hut, padlocked, noble, clean and tidy, split his lip, broke his lighthouse teeth on an iceberg rock overripe stone open edge slices into his bloody red tongue gurgled his last words ever....

....Peter, Bug Eyed Peter you are a wanted man flyaway Peter flyaway Paul....

....damp smack sound broken bone and dry crack snapped teeth river of red blood lake brown stone dead....

....pull down those peach skin jeans I am desperate dear dying to eat the fruit peel down those peach skin jeans for me to smear my lips in the juice shimmy down those peach skin jeans for me that heavenly fruit hides no stone....

....somewhere else someone called Jan Mutts dressed in full faded Papal regalia was daydreaming of peach skin jeans but the tilt of his daydream was swung in favour of violent and obsessive musty lust rather than The Deep Blue Head love orgasms....

....pull down these peach skin jeans I am desperate dear dying to eat the sweet fruit peel down these peach skin jeans for me to smear my lips in the ripe juice shimmy down these peach skin jeans for me this heavenly fruit awaits my tongue....

....orgasms The Deep Blue Head love orgasms the three of us were hot wet and comfortable and slippery in the glass walled shower, me, Alba and The Pretty Girl padlocked in soaking it all in while the ugly fertile populations of this dimension were being cut to shreds by deep electric blue alien fleets of killer pregnancy testers tornados of bloody red rain pinkly sweet minced meat inside beach huts peppermint blue padlocked all clean and tidy....

....KILLER PREGNANCY TESTERS SHRED ASTRONAUT Sexy space strolling astronaut Major Kitty Makepeace and her three month old fetus Darian out taking their usual Saturday night galactic constitutional were briefly surprised by....

....pull down these peach skin jeans I am desperate dear dying to eat the sweet fruit peel down these peach skin jeans for me to smear my lips in the ripe juice shimmy down these peach skin jeans for me this heavenly fruit on my tongue....

....then my right hand hit the floorboards and, morning erection glorious electric blue orgasm, I thought....

....“Killer Pregnancy Testers?....I’ve just got to use that line as a title....or something....”

....then my right hand hit the floorboards....