by Travis Jeppesen on October 14, 2011
First he got high enough to taste the ceiling. Poster announces live murder onstage. The city is a wild animal – voice of the police broadcast on shortwave frequency. Paranoia wears leopard-print pants. My friends address me as asshole. They told me I once belonged somewhere. So I let them follow me. Only to find the streets were lined with saliva: pizza by the slice.
Drunk saturation mobility. You love him more than you drink. Sally Salacious sings the boyfriend medley, no one will get in her way. Everybody competing to get heard. Repeat it hard enough and they’ll all go away.
I am here together with you, hairless and honest. Is that her real voice? The Hair Goddess. Coprophiliacs on parade. My life as a follower.
Maybe you forgot to put your arm around her at the right moment. Lead the children down the toilet of your thoughts – all the rats that once offered a definition. And the black-haired girl who just wanted a daddy. Even went on the daytime talkshow beside him. Cancer rains down like garbage in the streets. This is a story of New York City.
I was always the one to be prepared. On time every time, the voices. Puerto Ricans playing soccer in the cage. If I can’t wear women’s clothing I’d rather go naked. But no the men in blue will get you. Don’t get feces on my leather jacket; I am walking down the street.
Everybody talk at once please, I love it when that happens. Houston Street has gone to the pilgrims: this is what their children smell like.
They named him Jesus Christ.
Oh, death is such a non-spectacle at times. Whether in the jungle of cities or the desert of thought. I’m the living switchblade, sandwichbreath, syphilis on the docks. He stepped over a transparent Braille Bible on his way southwards aiming for the towers.
Borders never disappear; once trespassed, they are merely reset. A videogame version of blood.
His brother fucked off into a bottle of whiskey. Man those girls were haunted. Song of certainty goes like this. Look into my eyes and extract an emotion. Let it be known you can never think fast enough. The law doesn’t require tennis shoes.
Can you play my favorite song. The concert consisted of two songs and a punch in the face. Most of the audience had already run away by the time he shit on the floor, the sound had been turned off. Don’t invite violence into your gas station, kids. This is a story of New York City. The day was an ultimate example of one. Let me out into the junkyard. The Hair Goddess is squealing.
That bitch’s son got born soon after. She would’ve named it after him, had she been able to spell his name. Jesus Christ was someone else. There aren’t too many white kids around here. He’ll have to eat it with salt and pepper.
Things were never so direct, rock n’ roll. Shadow forecast, then nightfall. I wanna go to Drugland before it gets too dark to think it through. This makes the sixteen-year-old beside me snicker. I’ve met her father, I know what she’s looking for.
Life would be so much easier if you could fry it. Next week I’ll go down south with my boys there, record an album. With my brother we’re gonna tour Europe soon. Plans are underway. No I don’t speak no German. They can jail me but they can’t jail hate. He was a worthless son of a bitch. Get these motherfuckers away from me, we can’t bring them all with us. There’s a taxi, I’m going uptown. I don’t want to go to Brooklyn.