The Scope of Things

Crumpled paper car, oops stepped on it. Heavy footed. Daddy! Daddy! Hand me the shovel. Curtis, sit down! Boy I said sit down. Drunkenly smeared lipstick, glossed over the stench of vodka and olives. Get off the fuckin phone Frankie. We gotta go back out, I lost my handkerchief at that diner. Technicolor Copters chasing quadrants of prehistoric amphibious elephants. I hid in the stock room reading Joyce and hoping I’d end my shift early since it was so slow. Nearly nothing had happened all damn day. I love jimmy. I do, and I will forever n ever. God I miss Jennifer. She moved away last year and I haven’t even wrote her a letter. Letters to the pope returned undeliverable since the fires at the Vatican last month. Month of lost souls. Souls often part ways with their body in order to search among the landscape for ripe soul fruits. Fruits of every shape and size were lining the vendors baskets, brimming over with sweet wet rinds and brilliantly red berries. Barry’s cousin Kimberly is a slut and a whore. Whore wrote down her hours for the day and left the brothel with Pimp and Ho to see what money could be made out on the streets. Streets of sticky asphalt lay melting under a merciless Georgia summer sun. Son I wont tell you again that girls goin ta make you a dead man. Man I aint never seen a bitch lookin like dat, so hot. Hot, that’s what it was all right, hot and damp and hazy enough to make the sky dance in your vision. Vision is what I needed, greater vision, broader scope. Scope mouth wash – kills just about everything and your grandma too!

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Published in: on April 22, 2011 at 5:17 pm  Comments (3)  

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3 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. I like the bit about fruit. 🙂

  2. Lurkers lurk in the dark, lurkers lurk with the sharks. Looky-Loos are not shopper roos. Looky loos don’t pay the dues…

    • Delightful alliteration!


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