Wednesday, February 15, 2012

singin' dem icy london blues

so i’m hanging outside the hotel

it’s cold it’s miserable there’s ice on the sidewalk there’s some sort of naturally occurring acrimonious aura within which we’re all floating and flailing

frowns abound

and i’m in some terrible need of some fresh air

i need to escape the attitude of the airport hotel it’s the same all over the world no one is a regular at an airport hotel no one in their right mind really wants to stay at an airport hotel they’re all simple utilitarian boxes with beds and running water and a very unsatisfying television channel line up but they are ready willing and able to accommodate one’s base needs for a simple

shit shower and shave

the chick behind the counter she’s all business she’s all about the minimum daily requirement of vitamin courtesy she could give a shit about who what when where why there’s none of the jovial interest in me my business my raison d’etre

she doesn’t know that i’m in love nor does she care

she glances at my passport she takes my credit card she gives it a swipe hands me my key points to the general location of the elevator with a nod of her head

and i’m erased from her memory

i’ve flown all the way from san francisco to london trapped in some middle coach seat in between the cutest sweetest little old lady couldn’t have been more than five foot two looked liked she was a miss marbles refugee complete with matching hat and scarf hands folded on her lap

and some redheaded silicon valley nouveau company middle manager with the classic hipster prison pussy goatee wrapped around what should have been a chin

but wasn’t

a couple of joints previously smoked in the airport parking lot a double dose of medical edibles two shots of whiskey from those cute little bottles and a rented copy of sukiyaki western django the only path to making it through this trip

goddamn how does miss marble do it maybe it’s some sort of episcopalian meditation practice a constant mantra giving thanks to henry the eighth and his hottentot hottie anne boleyn

anna anna come to bed
i’m a gonna chop off your head

over and over and over again until she reaches that desired state of emotional translucence

maybe her doctor has her on so many fucking valium that she has no fucking idea where she is much less that she really is quite uncomfortable

maybe she has inserted a pair of sherry-filled benwa balls and she is experiencing such drunken heights of orgasmic pleasure that she simply cannot even fathom moving for fear of losing this edge

you move it you lose it

cialis paralysis can leave a person all weak in the ankles

and perhaps i’ve gone too far or not far enough

i’m too fucking stoned to read

i’m too fucking stoned to pay attention to any movie or video on these circa nineteen sixty-seven television screens that dangle from the curvature of the airplane’s spine

i’m too fucking stoned to do the crossword puzzle in the airline smut-zine

i’m too fucking stoned to keep my eyes open and count the cracks on the wall

but i’m too uncomfortable in my middle seat in the cattle car to fall asleep

oh the fucking horror

arriving in london well not really london per se best said arriving at heathrow only to have to walk seven point three miles along windowless hallways and up down staircases whose only purpose is to inflict emotional pain to wear down one’s already faltering ego

winding my way through this bureaucratic maze that is england only to be stuck snaking sneaking salamandering through the cue so that i that we can be inspected accepted rejected poked prodded patted purgatoried browbeat by bums with bad teeth and bad haircuts wearing ill fitting uniforms and

telling by the grimace on their face

shoes that must be oh so uncomfortable with laces too short to properly tie with laces too short to hang themselves in the shower ain’t no autoerotic asphyxiation happening with these laces ain’t no david carridine action happening with these laces

these laces that constantly come undone

oh she’s come undone

and carl the customs man thumbs through my passport looking for an empty page glancing at stamps for mexico glancing at stamps for israel for canada for holland belgium germany france korea singapore glancing at my chinese visas my brazilian visas finds a blank spot gives my passport a ch-ching ch-ching with the stamp machine

and sends me on my way

to stand in another line so can get myself a few quid all printed up in such pretty colors and graced by the image of a sexless matron wearing a crown of corn

to blaze a trail across and through the cold rain and snow to hop into a black cab that will drop me off at the doorstep of my own personal hell so i can spend quality time in some windowless colorless unadorned conference room on one of the middle floors of a dreary square box and glass office building in the middle of some dismal office park out near the airport out near the hotel

which is itself quite the symbol of this post-industrial we make nothing but we distribute knowledge office park

where we carelessly play with blasting caps of potential edge walking yes and no with the explosive emotional release of cum spurting dealgasm

and then late in the afternoon on to the hotel to settle into conference calls with the west coast with the good folks back home who are just beginning their day and could give a shit that while in theory they care but in practice they could give a shit that i should be ending mine

such is the life of a schmuck

and then i’m outside hanging with the other hotel outcasts these lonely smokers most having been exiled ostracized from all aspects of normal human social activities i mean for crissake can’t a guy even have a fucking fag in a bar while he’s sipping his whiskey complaining to any who will listen about his fucked up life

I prefer to hang with these untouchables who brave the cold to congregate and suck fumes and inhale witticisms not that i’m partaking in their filthy disgusting habit not that i’m about to be wallowing in their fucking mud hole i mean i might sneak around the corner and hit the blue dream get a little righteous become one with i and i and jah

the father
the son
the holy ghost

i’ve left behind love and rockets to land in this rumpus room of misfits i just can’t believe the loveliness of loving you i just can’t believe it’s true

sugar sugar
honey honey

aw yeah

pour a little sugar on it honey

you are my candy girl and you got me wanting you

lean back against the wall tilt back the head glance up at the moon and howl

shed a tear choke back a sob
let that lower lip tremble
just a bit
come back around and engage

say hey
talk name rank and serial number
the where you from
the where you going

dude dressed in his grandpa’s double ell fucking beane plaid jacket and wool-lined duck shoes smoking a lucky strike drinking what looked like a jack and coke with a blue plastic sword skewering a maraschino cherry resting amongst the ice in a plastic cup

yeah my momma she called me claude that’s my name born and bred in oklahoma yet i ain’t been there in thirty years what a pit of a fucking place and i know pits fucking eh lived for seven years in si-goddamn-beria lived in this town on the edge of the world smack dab in the middle of a goddamn puckered goat’s rectum

i tell you what

lived in singapore a couple of years that was fucking nice my wife yeah i’m motherfucking married what i look like i ain’t never been married fuck you my wife she said i must’ve pissed someone off

one day i’m sipping a cold one sitting on a fine couch in a high rise with the air conditioner blasting away next thing i know i’ve got my ass parked in si-fucking-beria

yeah must’ve pissed off somebody

heh

shit i turned sixty fucking two sitting out in the middle of the saudi goddamn arabian desert fucking sand niggers never let you have any fun

but lemme tell you

living in ell eh for two years was fucking worse far as i’m concerned the whole goddamn valley might as well be the la brea fucking tarpits let’s throw the lot of ‘em into the bubbling pitch and watch what little meat they have melt off their bones leaving nothing but their big broad crest white strip enlightened choppers

yeah ell eh now that place is the fucking asshole of the world goddamned new age liberal crystal worshipers

i light his cigarette i lean close cup the lighter in my hand flick flick click the bic i whisper maybe a bit harshly i consider biting his ear he just looks like he needs his ear bit it’s all weathered and red with a couple of lost hairs wiggling out reaching for the sky i ask him i say so dude so what the fuck did you do what gods did you cross what past lives did you totally fuck up that you lived in so many miserable places he says looking down his nose and over his drink at me he says leaning back on his heels he says

oil

fucking oil

i’m an oil man

and i ask him i lean back up to that shriveled shrunken head image of an ear i say so if it was so miserable why did you even bother doing it why did you let them keep moving you around like that

he looks at me like i had just asked him why his dog had three legs he says leaning a bit left on a bent knee his left eye shut he says

fuck if i know must’ve been the money

londonderry and all that

Friday, February 3, 2012

Spinning Me Slowly

it is somewhere around the balboa theater near the edge of the world when the blue dream begins to kick in when the dark dark blue hashish whispers her magic words licks at my soul with her wicked tongue

i will remember in some near or distant future i will remember saying something like i feel a bit lightheaded maybe you should drive then whoa i turn your way well hey you aren’t there

baby where the fuck did you go

and suddenly there is a terrible roar all around us and the sky is full of what looks like huge bats all swooping and screeching and diving around the car

and a voice is screaming holy jesus what are these goddamn animals

then all is quiet

how do you do that where do you find these rabbit holes worm holes peek a boo drive-by glory holes into my mind my heart my soul my dreams i don’t know do you know how you do that how you do that

like a thread of heroin sneaking up through the vein

bursting out like yellow fucking stone jelly fucking stone

in my brain

just like pop rocks

hey boo boo i’m smarter than the average bear don’t you know and i got to pull over I pull the beater beemer over slide her tired old self right into an always open outer richmond outsideland out by the beach parking spot windows down the breeze blowing in off the water so chill and cool

the little hairs on the back of my neck they just tingle they stand up and wiggle they dance all about and tickle my fancy send shivers up and down my spine

like i’m back home way up through the woods out on the edge of the pasture sitting up in the sugar shack on a bale of hay with my first girlfriend debra she sweet and nasty debra she taught me to kiss she taught me to touch lips and linger and enjoy and feel the love and give the love and share the love and we wiggled and we danced on those bales of hay way out there in the sugar shack

goddamn can i get a witness

one mo’ little toke o’ the blue dream little dark blue pearls of pussy dripped into such a wondrous resin to sacrifice to the goddess herself toss the virgin onto the fire breathe her in

feel it

do it

express yourself

i’m here to get a little trim touch up the locks do the metrosexual thing fight the aging fight fight against that good night my man peter pan he keeps his shop way out here by the beach i have traveled from my perch atop little city i made my way out meandered out over hill and dale to this edge hey it’s worth it hey

he’s peter fucking pan

doesn’t speak a word of english but he’s the hippest dude i know peter fucking pan way out here in never never land

and i walk in and here’s peter’s wife may and she sits me down and brings me fresh pineapple cake fresh from tawain from where they’ve just returned back from chinese new year’s she brings me jasmine tea she so cool she so hot

we do the chit we do the chat she tells me stories of family and dinners and trips over to hong kong to shop and she shows me a new scarf it is beautiful a jade color with gold threads running through in wild patterns

like you do along this blue dream trail running up and through my glory holes

then she may then she gets up and she leaves and she comes back with the black robe and she has me stand up and she has me hold my arms and she lifts up the robe with her own open arms oh god is love and love is god and to thee i do give thanks i give thanks goddamn i do and i slide right in like i want to slide into her slip sliding into her like i am simply sliding slip sliding banana peel falling head over heel like i always do i am so clumsy i fall so easily

i ain’t so easy to love but i love so easily

and my asian athena she takes me by the hand leads me to the baptismal pool to the big soft chair where she helps me lay gently back til my head rests just below the warm waters that pour oh so so faintly and there he is peter pan standing there like a large asian prince of the elves he is there behind me and he takes my head into his hands into his magical elven hands he touches me with the tips of his fingers he wiggles them fingers he dances them fingers like black bart is standing outside the bar with them fingers black bart he holding a bottle of whiskey in one hand he got that big six shooter in the other he drunkenly yelling at them fingers he screaming dance motherfucker dance shooting his big old pistol them fingers they jump to they wiggle they dance they do the soft shoe they do the tap they waltze across my head

and i surrender to peter pan this motherfucker this silly sally shit is like goddamn crack i’ll suck his dick i’ll suck his daddy’s dick after I run out of all my money sell my mother’s jewelry sell my chirruns into slavery i surrender right into them fingers

and i surrender to peter pan and he takes me up on his magic carpet and i just float up and around them fingers they shoot fire and heroin and love and wonder i stand up and step off onto a cloud such a cool gold bond moment on the toes i open a door and here you are how did you get here goddamn here you are standing at your kitchen sink playing with your food

playing like you do playing with purpose

long blonde hair falling down below your shoulders

handfuls

goddamn

got them curves like a girl got like a girl she supposed to have got them places to hold on to got them places to grab hold of got them curves like a girl got curves them curves that give me a big dipper loop de loop ride turn me upside down spin me around baby i just wanna be your hula hoop just pick me up give me a whirl swing them hips hands over your head i am a monkey in the space ship i just wanna orbit your hot self

spin me slowly

suspend me about them hips

and let me slip slide fall around about

them long legs that go all the way down to the floor so white and smooth and inviting all the way down to them cute little piggly wigglies that i know can dig into the sheets grip the sheets grip the hairs on my legs pull me in

oh silly sally up at the sugar shack oh miz sweet in my tea please pull me in

let me be that little bit of chili in your salad let me be that touch of wasabi that causes you to catch your breath i want to be that guy

for you

i crave you to crave me

‘cause fuck you girl you do it to me it’s only fair love war mata hari you stole a lock of my hair you sewed it into your voodoo doll you stuck a pin into its heart

that draws me up behind you that pulls me up to you that takes my hands that sends my hands up and around that take your fullness in squeezes you back into me that move up to your throat as your head falls back and turns to kiss

to let your lips linger

your throat in my hands

lord know how i miss those days dressin’ up for church on easter sunday doing the electric slide at every party

if only you knew what i’ve been through you would celebrate

get up

you would celebrate

like i celebrate like i’m celebrating right now pressing up against you standing up there against the kitchen sink all wondrously june cleaver you should have pearls big droplets of white pearls on that milky pale soft silky skin pressing up against you

wanting you needing you right here right now you can feel me i know you can right this very moment you feel me growing you feel me breaking out breaking through i cannot be contained

you do that to me

i want to be that guy for you

and then the door it closes that wind it just sweeps me out and the door it closes and the magic carpet it floats back down to the ground and peter pan’s magic fingers they’re tapping upon my head as he’s finishing up with a quick playful toweling and i open my eyes and may she’s standing there in front of me and she’s not looking at my eyes she looking a little further south and here you’ve gone and done it again got me all worked up even in my blue dream magic finger haze you got me all jiggety you’ve left me so wanting craving

it’s there for all the world to see how i bleed how you make that voodoo doll make me bleed baby you are my voodoo priestess i am your zombie prince with the monster slumber time dream space hardon

and may her eyes then move up to greet mine with a grin and me well i just close my eyes and lay back down into the towel

spinning me slowly and all that