"schöne verbeugung vor etwas,
was viel zu wenig ernst genommen wurde."
was viel zu wenig ernst genommen wurde."
" ein übrig gebliebenes pärchen
knutschte dazu im stehblues rum."
"das pärchen hätte ich ja gerne mal gesehen.
zu tg romantisch tanzen."
"war sehr sweet."zu tg romantisch tanzen."
" ja, es klingt fast schon rührend irgendwie.
so einen abschied hätte sich sleazy doch gewünscht,
knutschende paare zu coil und tg."
"ich glaube, er hätte sich zwei hübscheso einen abschied hätte sich sleazy doch gewünscht,
knutschende paare zu coil und tg."
fickende jungs in leder gewünscht."
"stimmt wohl eher. oder eine dildoparade."
"dildoparade!vgl. diesen auszug aus alan gurganus 'plays well with others':
[zur info: typ stirbt an aids, freund geht seine wohnung aufräumen, bevor die eltern aus iowa kommen.]
"basket over arm, i finally opened the broom closet. one broom tilted there, leaned on by a dingy mop. i had expected oh three dildoes, tops. i found about thirty.
thirty dildoes are a lot of dildoes.
they were piled knee-high, like cordwood. propped, bald, ridged, and spired. set on end, they formed a little onion-domed kremlin. some used adjacent cleaning products as their splints. clumped there, the dildo quorum appeared unionized yet disgruntled. -like toys caught in the act of trying to become the toy-maker. here were toys that'd crawled up off the floor, yeah, into an erect position, okay-but bad not evolved much beyond.
striving? yes.
brainy? - no.
they seemed to sniff up towards me, weak-eyed rats startled by daylight. their pointed ends -the business ends- considered my new scent. the dildoes resembles some half-familiar form of household toll (actually, i guess, they were). but their reiterated shape fell somewhere between a vacuum cleanser's "wand" and the fuselage of an old-timey batter-beating mixmaster. they seemed hybridized with that lank, shameless, duck-faced go-between, the plumber's friend.
i counted thirty-two, then quit. one was red and white and blue. most showed that sickly pink shade combining chewed bubble gum with old eyeglasses' nose rests and ear hooks meant to simulate caucasian skin tone. others, browner, latin or african, appeared tree-sized, ropey saplings. and all were lasciviously detailed: lariats of vein, cobra cowls that flared - fair warning.
they gaped up at me like an open-mouthed choir of retarded children, looking heavenward.
some, i recognized, were actual casts from living porn stars; there was a jeff stryker, a monster, but somehow roman in its genial fluted beauty. one such menaced proved double headed as he russian imperial eagle."
[die dildos befreien sich schließlich in der u-bahn und greifen leute an.]"thirty dildoes are a lot of dildoes.
they were piled knee-high, like cordwood. propped, bald, ridged, and spired. set on end, they formed a little onion-domed kremlin. some used adjacent cleaning products as their splints. clumped there, the dildo quorum appeared unionized yet disgruntled. -like toys caught in the act of trying to become the toy-maker. here were toys that'd crawled up off the floor, yeah, into an erect position, okay-but bad not evolved much beyond.
striving? yes.
brainy? - no.
they seemed to sniff up towards me, weak-eyed rats startled by daylight. their pointed ends -the business ends- considered my new scent. the dildoes resembles some half-familiar form of household toll (actually, i guess, they were). but their reiterated shape fell somewhere between a vacuum cleanser's "wand" and the fuselage of an old-timey batter-beating mixmaster. they seemed hybridized with that lank, shameless, duck-faced go-between, the plumber's friend.
i counted thirty-two, then quit. one was red and white and blue. most showed that sickly pink shade combining chewed bubble gum with old eyeglasses' nose rests and ear hooks meant to simulate caucasian skin tone. others, browner, latin or african, appeared tree-sized, ropey saplings. and all were lasciviously detailed: lariats of vein, cobra cowls that flared - fair warning.
they gaped up at me like an open-mouthed choir of retarded children, looking heavenward.
some, i recognized, were actual casts from living porn stars; there was a jeff stryker, a monster, but somehow roman in its genial fluted beauty. one such menaced proved double headed as he russian imperial eagle."
"thirty dildoes are a lot of dildoes."
[ein zutiefst seltsames gefühl, übrigens, diese twitterinternetsonstwastrauer, sasha grey ist auch traurig!, das flickr-kondolenzbuch, 'xyz has added you as a contact, too!' | am abend erfahren, dass noch jemand mehr krebs hat, in der besonders fiesen variante auch noch. darüber nachgedacht, wie gut das leben darin ist, seine eigene flüchtigkeit zu verdecken. leute sterben dauernd. leute fallen betrunken die treppe runter und sterben. leute schlafen ein und sterben. leute fahren ihre autos gegen autos, bäume, wände und sterben. und in deinem eigenen körper verpeilen ein paar zellen an irgendeinem morgen oder abend, an dem du irgendwas schönes oder langweiliges machst, ihre aufgaben, und wochen, monate, jahre später bringen sie dich dann um. fuck cancer.]
[nablopomo 2010; 2/630]
[nablopomo 2010; 2/630]
