Friday, January 27, 2012

page 113

instead of bondage the blubbery crack of I don’t believe you I’m always wondering what miss palm is thinking with that blank look on her face an expression that only Picasso could love she is leaning over a gravestone and smiling like a vampire there is this raw sexiness to her as she sit atop of the dresser her reflection in the mirror is enigmatic miss palm has a troubled child her child is possessed by a demon she and her husband have spent all of their money seeing doctors and psychiatrists the tried everything that science has to offer for help but to no avail their only hope is nanuk of the north he has been making a living casting devils out of people he pulls out a bottle of special sauce from his bag of magical tricks and sprinkles it on the forehead of the possessed then he speaks a few magical words and the person jerks and contorts and the demon leaves in a big pile of vomit this is what he did for the barmaid he charged the turk one hundred bucks and the barmaid was free from truck the demon she was embarrassed and a little befuddled to have been possessed by a demon this was a little more than challenging to her faith in Tim as the supreme lord and master of the world why would tim allow such a thing to happen to her when she had been laboring so intently in his service this is when the seed of doubt began to creep into the heart of the barmaid someone once said that there has to be faith before there can be doubt Frankie is so ivy league smoking on his pipe he begging his girlfriends to send him some money he is building a table top nuclear weapon he wants to destroy kitchens all over the world to speak of honesty a true honest between naked bodies arms and legs entwined with the naked truth a truth that is only between us being a dog a puppy a mutt I had plans for this bomb big fucking plans explosive plans I was going to put inside a wall mart or a target and watch it blow all the shoppers up you clean the dishes off the table and we examine the schematic how to build the elephant we have a truckload of pieces we just need to figure out where they all go Frankie drags in this huge piece of metal and starts banging on it with a hammer the sound of metal against metal reverberates the trickery between us Frankie has found the timer and is attaching it the devices chassis there is a medusa of multicolored wires each are assigned a special place and a special purpose I am listening to the mothers through the wall they are talking about Dr. Loophole how he was conceived in a row boat on lake Osage his father was a pharmaceutical rep and his mother was a nurse in a county clinic that mostly treated whores and old junkies how did have enough sense to die already the flesh that fades slowly turning metallic she said the doctor told her not to put any weight on it so I told her to get on top with my two hands I lifted her ass up and down she tells me that Dr. Loophole is a meat trader he doesn’t care about the atom bomb he is mixing up the methamphetamine the doctor has a lab in his shed out back he is cooking up the stuff night and day he has a whole crew that sells his stuff on the street you pinch some fat from your leg and stick the needle in you feed the solution slowly she had a big hole in her leg a drag on the industrialized world Dr. Loophole is taking his patients out into the woods and leaving them there they die from exposure to the elements everyone has learned to snarl at his approach he is doctor

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