forgotten/lost/miscellaneous

the death of the japanese city/gojira/jack burton

When some wild-eyed, eight-foot-tall maniac grabs your neck, taps the back of your favorite head up against the barroom wall, looks you crooked in the eye and asks you if ya paid your dues, you just stare that big sucker right back in the eye, and you remember what ol’ Jack Burton always says at a time like that; “Yessir, the check is in the mail.”

Jack Burton

and yesterday couldn’t move/the gravity of the day holding me in place/ I dreamt that moths ate through all my clothes/cashmere knits resting in their draws/and awake to old rice glued onto all the crockery in the dishwasher/where the dishes wait to be washed by hand/ a thousand things to do/dirty clothes/dusty floors/hairs around the sink/piles of washing up all glazed in food/the sink blocked/emails/invoices/and I can’t face any of it/and aching sore from flagellation/shemale porn/harry s morgan movies/collette sigma/debora couer/trying to find something obscene and perverse/chasing the zero/ as if to shock myself like frankensteins monster with lightening bolts through my cock

as if

I’m trying

not to

thrash

some love

into

myself

but

rather,

beat

out

the

self

loathing

click on thumbnails for fullsize images

photographs of nagasaki, hiroshima and godzilla post nuclear exposure

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