Monday, April 27, 2009

A Lost Cause

Reflections and lost glimpses
Caught in eyes
Haunted by you
The elegant destroyer
You the
Changeling and defier
Of all my grace
Of all my want
All my hope and
That ever pressing desire
You gone, yet
Ever present
Caught in the cross-hairs of
Memory
Eyes green with flecks of brown
Your resolute stance
Fists bunched and shoulders tight
When you were passionate
About some doomed cause or other
And everywhere still
Traces of you
Lingering
Like sweat
A lost cause
The fierce unrelenting force
Of your beauty
Burned into the background
Of my eyes
That implacable smile
My self-same telling one
Sitting alone and in the sun
And wondering where it all went wrong
As the wind blows and the leaves grow
Indifferent to me and
Glorious

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

On Dealing with Zombies from the Society for Evil, Debauchery and Kitten Appreciation

'So, I was dating this girl, but she had a one track mind. Like, all she could think about was 'Brains, brains...... BRAINS.' At first I thought I wasn't smart enough. But then I realized she was a zombie.'

Does this remind you of you? Don't feel self conscious friend. We've all been there. Everyone in a secret evil society bent on world domination at one point or another tries to develop some terrible serum that will raise the dead or convert the living into unstoppable, if smelly, killing machines to further a ~ you guessed it ~ quest for world domination. That or you happen to go on a blind date with one. Either way, when they turn on you things can get a little tricky. So, that's why, here at the Society for Evil, Debauchery and Kitten Appreciation, we've developed a helpful little list of helpful hints in order to help you help yourself out on that annoying day when you've been over-run by pesky plagues of brain hungry undead zombie killers.

Oh, and before you get all self righteous and mightier than thou and bleat on and on in an annoyingly whiny voice about how 'blah, blah, blah, it's morally wrong to raise the dead' and 'blah, blah, this is what happens when you play with God's immaculate creation' and 'you should have built a proper containment facility', well, you can just take a naked flying leap ass first in the general direction of an oversized meat grinder that has not even been disinfected in nary a week and get off our cases already please and thank you very much!

It is vital to not get caught up in any blame games when it comes to the 'Grrrr, grrr, brains, brains' clique (especially if you are to blame). Just keep reminding everyone of that and get out there and kill some zombies already.

Therefore and with much ado The Society for Evil, Debauchery and Kitten Appreciation Presents:

The Helpful Hints Guide at Helping People Help Themselves Get the Zombies Fucking off 'Em and Out of Their Back Gardens at Least Anyways.

1) First of all deal with the people blaming you for unleashing hell on earth into an otherwise normal shopping mall, suburb or whatever. This can be done easily enough by locking them in a room with some new acquaintances. Namely the zombies. That will shut them up in a hurry! You are happy, zombies are happy, everyone wins.

2) What to do when you meet a zombie?
Pretend to make friends with it by offering a drawing of a brain as a nice present. Then when it's licking the paper or otherwise admiring it smash its fucking brains in with a shovel. Note: It is important you do not eat the zombie's brains in one of those 'Huh, how do you like it, eh? Not so much when I do it to you, eh, asshole zombie?' moments as you will likely get infected and become a zombie yourself. That happened to Roger last Thursday. He will be missed. But it was fun smashing his skull in with a shovel. And good exercise!

3) Also, if you are on a date and the person keeps lamenting a lack of brains on the menu and orders and extra raw steak and keeps admiring the size of your brain-pan you might be in zombie country. If they ask if they can 'give you a quick brain massage from behind in the lavatory or perhaps you're car' you may indeed want to call it an early night and head home or indeed, out of state. Especially if their arm falls off before the entree arrives, or their eyes begin to run down their face during coffee.

4) What to do when a loved one gets bitten by a zombie?
Get a shovel and smash their fucking brains in and find someone else. You didn't like them that much anyways, let's be honest. And with the world overrun by zombies any remaining humans you now meet will be much more attractive. Just don't let them know you're to blame and they'll likely be happy to do their duty and help you repopulate the earth.

5) What to do when your doubles partner turns up all zombied out?
Smash their fucking brain with your tennis racquet. Actually, this goes for all zombies you come across in most situations. You don't necessarily need to use a tennis racquet however, just whatever's on hand. Preferably something sharp and heavy to smash their brainstems. In fact, you can get away with doing this to normal people who you find annoying and/or have attractive partners as well. Just ask them to go for a nice walk, just the two of you, and later tell their husband/wife, 'oh, yeah, them zombies got (insert name here). Nasty business. Can I perhaps comfort you at all? How about a nice bath pour deux'. Just make sure you clean any of their loved one's blood off of you and wipe that smile away before you present the 'awful news'.

6) What to do when zombies are wrecking your garden?
A zombie scarecrow was recently tried out, but didn't really have much of an impact. The zombies just tried to make friends with it and were happy to have another person to groan to. However, the zombies themselves do do a wonderful job at scaring away crows and raccoons and such. Positives in everything, right. But, if you really don't like the undead hanging out and decomposing on and around your vegetable patch or prize winning Gardenias then we suggest sending the person you least like in your group out to lure them away. This can be done by waiting for them to fall asleep and then shoving them out the door. If they're quick enough they'll lead the zombies a merry chase away and then everyone's happy. Just make sure you lock the door after you shove them out.

7) When would be a good time to visit my mother's grave during a zombie epidemic?
DO NOT visit any graves or graveyards during a zombie epidemic.

8) How do I protect myself when having sex with a zombie?
Don't have sex with a zombie you sick, sick, sick bastard! God, you make us so sick! You sick sicko!

Sincerely,
The evil MGMT.
x

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

The Other Day

I almost fainted the other day when
When you said when
When you stared at me softly and whispered
When can I leave you babe?
When can you face the day
I walk and walk away?
I thought then that other day
How your beauty is so magnified
When you tenderly push
Push me away
The other day when you asked
When can you face the night
Without me?
I started shaking a little
That other day
You, naked and pale, in the sunshine
Your beauty a torch raging
Set to burn me alive
I struggled the other day
Your prepossessing all
And your grey eyes
Matching the clouds
The other day
Gentle and sad when you looked at me
I started to shiver
When
When you took away all the heat
From your smile
And you said
Today is the day my love
That I go away
In day and in night
You will dream another
I started sweating the other day
When you said
Goodbye
And forever walked away

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Pedro and Arkady's Night Out

Another place, another adventure. This time a minor scuffle after Pedro, pretty fucked up Pedro on peyote, the secret weapon in question, hits on the acquaintances of some rather unfriendly biker types at a pool bar. They are unceremoniously roughed up and thrown out of the joint and thrown into an alley after taking a few punches for good measure. Fortunately a new place, the next place, one of them hidden, unnamed and likely illegal places, is located in the same said alley, just down a little ways. They slowly rise and dust themselves off. Pedro pukes in a garbage bin. They walk if off, shake it off, and are soon in good shape, spirits and style, discuss the play 'Doctor Faustus' as they perambulate, inhaling on sweet tasting carcinogens. They amble on past an Asian dude with a pool cue backed up against a wall. He is using it to fend off a group of four drunk and angry men who've got him cornered, some of whom carry broken bottles in tight fist grips. They keep urging him to set it down, that pool cue, set it down and fight them all like a man. Against the four of them he wisely chooses to disregard this advice. Pedro and Arkady slow and muse it over. Wiser heads prevail.

'Not our fight Arkady.

'No. 'Sides, I'm a lover not a fighter… a drinker, not a die-er. Besides again, the bar's just up there.'

They leave the Asian to his fate. He does seem to be holding them at bay for the time being. Soon they've arrived at a monstrous and scarred and seemingly sealed industrial metal door. After getting the once over from an equally monstrous, scarred and very surly doorman they are ushered shoved down a stairs to a girl who takes a rather extensive, but not unexpected, door fee.

They are on the dance floor. And they are still up for it and lapping it up, if slightly more sloppily. Evidence in this on the newly acquired beer stains on shirt fronts and sweaty necks/chests. Pedro is kung fu fighting. He is mentally smashing some imagined sycophants while Arkady is seducing them with those pretty lowered eyes of his. Come hither gestures and then pulling away. They dance more than drink and exude sensual vice and glee. Seclusion with a man. Seclusion with a woman. More cocaine. Arkady is laughing, laughing, laughing!

More new friends. Soon to be enemies. Many shots of whiskey. 'In solidarity for before' Arkady also pukes. Angry people in their faces, in the clouds. Rain and tears. Humidity. Horizons of trouble dawning along with the soon to be sun outside.

Runny noses must be caught. They lead them everywhere, those two ruffians Pedro and Arkady. Coke and uppers and pills they don't even know what the fuck are, but had been laying around and 'must be sure to do something' and 'better to use them soon afore they go bad'. And 'we gots to do something to countervene and counteract the goddamned peyote which was a not good idea you crazy Pedro bastard.'

Pedro falling into a wall, smiling the bliss out. The run and howl, the smile and slump, arm in arm in arm and do not even know, nor care, who the other set of arms is, the one groping so nice like.

Another place; the final place.

Like rats from a sinking ship they slip, along with many others forced from the dance floor at the night's end, or at least the bar's close, oozing along with a pretty young one each, with mascara and lipstick all smeared, clothes ruffled, the hunched shuffle-stoop and crabwalk, arms interlinked, leading the way to new adventure so late, or rather early, in the day. An after hours booze can of the dodgier type. A loud and rough and tumble joint. Punk rock. Cigarettes in an illegal smoking backroom. And shots of jagermeister. And buxom ladies in belly shirts, prostitutes and conmen and villainy all over the place, oozing out of the walls. Perfect.

'No one here gets out alive.' ~ shouted through the throng and laughter. Somewhat scary and deranged laughter from Pedro, which makes people give the man, the stumbling man, much space.

Poker game in a corner in this basement with windows painted black and velvet curtains. Cans of Mexican lager and cigarettes. Arkady winning and cheating at poker, winning too many hands in a row while Pedro entertains the lasses, but with no money to pay for things to sustain them they are soon slinking off to bed. Arkady being asked to leave the table, but with enough winnings for a few more drinks. Now tired and drinking anyways, smoking anyways, edgy, restless, and propped against the bar.

'I'm not saying he won't screw you over, but at least he'll do it to your face. I can respect that. Not like most of these assholes in this bar. Cunts all 'round.'

'Hey, Arkady, shut the fuck up, these cunted assholes can hear us.'

'You know dude. I love you. I am pretty fucked up already.'

'I am… in agreement, you... Cossack.'

Several individuals have gathered around the two. They look scary, but then everyone in an illegal after-hours boozecan at eight in the morning tends to look scary. Suddenly they are unceremoniously grabbed and dragged to the entrance where a little man in a fedora awaits. Strange yet familiar, he is, but unplaceable as it is all rather a blur. They are dragged out at his behest, and knocked into a few walls on the way. Arkady is kicked several times in the ribs before they are hauled out and into the bright, blinding, unforgiving and pain inducing light.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Touch

Touch
You have to come close and
Touch
Let your fingers lightly dance
On my neck and on my chest
Your breasts pressed against me
As we recline your hand in mine
Interlaced
Your face full of repressed
Love and laughter
Your perfect curling toes
Against the small of my back
I need your
Touch
Drape your hair around my face and chest
A fortification in which we hide
While you kiss me
And stick out
The tip of your tongue
My hands on your lovely waist
Touch your lips so red and fine
Place your hip bones against mine
Debate my fate
Come close as we are one
Eyes filled with wonder meet
Let our legs all intertwine
I want your shoulder to kiss
Your arching back
Your stomach, your elegant neck
Your thighs
Dance your breath along my spine
Touch me, take me, navigate me
With your sense of desire and need and pride
Your hand in mine
Touch me, touch
I need your
Touch
Fingernails raking on my back
Your heart in full attack
Bathe me in the light
Of your music song laughter
Of that tender knowing grin
Touch me with your bright eyes
As I taste your tender skin
Let your mind run into me
Set my thoughts free
Touch me, bathe me, cleanse me
I need your
Touch babe
In the heat of our desire
Ice melting against fire
Sing your pretty siren song
And I'll come willingly
To your arms
I just need your
Touch