A block, brick, heavy hold. Tempted tried, lights flash bright, strobelike distractions. Faces smooshed, pushed, smashed, handled, trampled. Smoke beams cast evil shadows and weather walls to heart shaped hems and viral gems. Cages cling clang, bang against metal art, architecture. Erect stalls crash through crumbling walls, forming hills, lumps with wood hips. Flashed forward clothing bangs of blue crust battered from the hazy waves of old perfume and flammable tire suits. Brown grayish tips of leather, white grips of knuckle luck, fisting baby ankles in high heeled combats. Sisters cutting film strips glued to dollfaced hair boy lamb costumes. Sulking clumps of frothy fat tears gulping back grease smiles tucked into folds of caramel fake fruits. Camping outside in heaps of paper tubing, rubbing alcoholic apoxy, creams, cans and ointment, skinned knees. The cold barks leapt out like cats from trees, after paper money like dragon myths. Squished battered rolls fade out into groups of muti-colored hoses dripping wet with burnt blood capsules, packed into crates near backs of buildings before being put into semi trucks in the following days.
December 7th, 2009
Retreating the party’s rage.
by The Weight of Amusement | Posted in Uncategorized | No Comments » | Tags: avant garde writing, dark humor, david kurtz, free writing, weight of amusement