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Saturday, June 12, 2010

Lines from Club Charles

v. cancer moon

Strange world out everywhere
hopelessly in total control.

Bacon by the overpass curling thru windows
and people get evermore starry eyed.

Extraordinary bullshit is upon us.

Look through the windows of cars at their standstill,
Caligulas of human rights braiding death on the interstate,
the wear and tear real as the tears
forced out by 5 p.m. glare.

I’ll light my fires for the rush
of highways and massive architecture,
floundering in antimatter,

broken records made to last,

dust motes snowing in projector rays.

The Hardy Boys Go Nowhere


“Frank, wake up. Remember? We came back here to the old Egmont estate? For forty minutes we sat in the car? There was a dead man on the doorstep? His loose molar opened up the door. Remember, Frank? Remember. Remember.”


Through the radiator grates the Hardy brothers saw a thousand test tubes spewing steam. Behind the chemical fumes, a man and a woman sat interrogating none other than Chet Morton! “So tell me,” the woman asked flirtatiously, “how do you feel about what I’ve just fed you?” Convulsing like a half-dead fat bird, Chet answered, “That one made me feel real good.” “And how about this?” asked the man, offering the lad an unwrapped cracker square. Chet Morton began slobbering fat uncontrollably. “This one makes me feel funny.”
“Chet looks fatter than ever,” whispered Joe.