Saturday, December 26, 2015
Santa Claus is coming to town, cruising by real slow with dark glasses, smoking a cigarette and tossing gifts out the window without looking. He's got things on his mind. The Martians have a campaign to kidnap him force him to bring Christmas joy to their poor little joyless Martian children. But he's seen this movie before. Best bet is just to keep moving. Don't stop for no nothing and no body.
Friday, December 25, 2015
Snowy christmas flakes fell down upon my face, IO opened my mouth and tasted them and they tasted like cardoman shortbread. I realized this was all a dream and I was in Australia and it was hot and I was stuck in a basement with the door blocked off by an avalanche of reindeer antlers, but I willed the dream to continue and the cardoman to keep buzzing my tongue.
Thursday, December 24, 2015
I walked into a spider web and it coated my whole body, and as I span around it rolled me tight like a cigar. A giant came along and lit me up and puffed on me, but the taste of my burning hair was so acrid that he dropped me into the ocean. I floated in my web for 99 days and then I was fished out of the water by Kate Bush, who was travelling the seas alone in an old rusty trawler. She sang for me and it was so mellifluous that that my hair was repaired and the spider-web unwound from me and drifted lazily up into the heavens.
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
Slipping in between the layers of skin, the little mouse-mite burrowed away with it's gnashing teeth, eating little skin bubbles and fashioning them into popsicles within it's stomach, then regurgitating therm and licking them, till eventually it's teeth fell out from too many popsicles, and the cycle was over. The little mouse-mite stopped burrowed and cried and wished it had been just a little more moderate.
Tuesday, December 22, 2015
Are you red red ready for your whole being to be subsumed by roast chicken? Your lips and eyes and toes will all become roast chicken, with oily, crispy skin, and no sooner have you accepted this new state of being, you will be set upon by dogs and cats and rats and quokkas and armadillos, tearing the delicious chickeny flesh from your bones as you scream in pain. Then you lay there on the concrete, greasy bones twitching, trying to cry but your chickeny tear ducts were chewed off and swallowed by a cute little joey.
Saturday, December 19, 2015
insurrection in the city is the product of soft drinks having too much sugar and the children being driven wild with fizzy brains and rotten teeth, they will gum you till you are really uncomfortable and you will eventually kick them away and then their parents will sue you and you will be destitute, wandering around on the hottest day of the year dripping milk into your beard and wailing like a mother seal who has lost her pup