Posted by NL on January 09, 2005 at 12:50:47:
Why They Killed-- Part 13
Heehee why do you think they call me mr. plotz it is because the mind the mind that is not active and ready full of schemes is a mind a mind you can scoop out of its skull and fling like a bad pasty against the sky and splatter there against the blue wall that holds us in this prison this hell that only the morning routine the stretch the fart the belch the scratch the itch the tube steak in hand the murderous gism flung against the blue wall will redeem but only briefly only briefly and then the coffe ritual the golden bowl ritual the fall of yellow mist and the fall of toxic rain redeem but briefly briefly and at last dear god at last the country a m farm radio show with old elmer kravitz and the nematode song going doopy doopy doop like a big yellow loop in the air the very aether vibrates with joy and the song goes on and then the song ends and lo it is time for time has passed always passing much like the yellow rain when it nudges past the obstruction in the tube that pains one so and lo the time has come for the time is always coming i won't say it and the girl that girl is there to do the livestock report i enjoy so much and the hog bellies arrive on time but the poor miss stumbles always stumbles is it the hogs or the bellies i think it is the bellies she thinks of the bellies she thinks of her own belly soft and sweet lightly sweated there and downed with finest hair blonde like her only a blonde would be so distracted by the thought of bellies of her belly in the land of slaughtered butchered dead hogs knives they use to cut them open cruel and sharp as my mind my mind and does she see then the knife in her belly the knife in her bowel that golden or as they say crimson bowl the pelvis ahhhh so dear her pelvis a bowl of bowels and the knife inserted spilling the contents across her thighs lightly downed with finest blonde hair a thick flow of gore that word and 'testines 'testines oozing forth and hanging loops of gut obscuring that sign that cynosure i'm not sure of that but no matter no matter her snatch the hairy crotch awash in blood thinking of her i resolve why yes i will do my laundry and i will sharpen that old knife and i will find out where the radio station has its studio offices it can't be far god is not so cruel as that and i will put gas in my chevette scooter and boost the fucking battery again if it be so required of me and i will put on my prescription lenses for to see and i will brave the traffic swirling like dead fish in a red tide a red tide yum a red tide i will make a wonderful thought hold that thought i'll be there when the sweetie steps out the little door and thank god my car radio is still working for i want so much to hear the strains again of that nematode song doopy doopy doop it goes doopy doopy doop mr farmer stocker rancher livestock man kill them kill them nematodes though one such as i such as i with my mind my mind in high gear always aspires to kill the higher organsim yes the pretty organism and so i shall have that apotheisis at last to become godlike and enervate nay supercharge my morning routine bury my knife in the beautiful farm show hog belly girl the blonde stumbling over the belly word because she can see, she can see in a little grim glitter in the gloaming my knife in her bowels a develpment she cannot avoid oh no because she has attracted the notice the eyes and the minds of mr. plotz and god will surely grant me the time as she writhes and dies and tangles my feet with her guts a pleasant snarl i say to whip out the old tubesteak and send a benediction of love's rich ichor so long and so well primed for such an ascent an outpouring that surely will splatter across the blue wall the prison wall and astound the passerby and the merely profane and how they shall wonder and wonder where and wuffo has this shit come to be and if they only knew it they would say at once of course it had to be mr. plotz with his mind so active and so ready full of schemes and he has at last transcended the morning routine and after this who really cares about the blue wall that holds us ever in this prison this hell