Heavy like a weighted blanket
Heavy like a weighted blanket, the air pressed on my ear drums. I felt like I was swimming, just walking through the night in the backyard. The stars were nowhere to be seen, the low ceiling pressing the hot air down even harder. We are in a small convection oven, one of those fancy ones with a steam setting. I wonder who will eat us when we are finally cooked. Toasted humans, cooked by their own hubris, grind them up like sesame seeds and sprinkle them on your galactic soup bowl of gluten free jupiter rings. You think those would be peachy and sour, but they are far more like the taste of freezer burnt shoelaces and fermented breastmilk. Cheesy, if you will. Or if you won’t that’s fine too. I wouldn’t if I were you.
Dark heavy wet and I am not talking about your mom. No this is far more like the birds of the night that have two legs and fly. Not the birds of the night that have two legs and fuck like your mom. This is the sound of bats swooping for bugs in the spotlight of the streetlights. The beam reaching wide and clear, yellow against the black. You should stand there, and throw small rocks. Throw them straight up, like a small bug, and watch the bats. They will come for you, do your bidding, now you are Dracula, and all is well.
Reaching into the crisper and throwing away rotten food, the question isn’t who is hungry it is more like who wants a piece of cake. Cake is when you don’t need food, it's like the strange taste of failure laced with a sense of accomplishment, reaching into the freezer for some more of those freezer burnt shoelaces so you can tie a knot around barbie’s neck, you find someone stuck Ken in there. All this time he’s just been chillin’ and we had no idea. So cool, Ken. What do you do when he thaws out and everyone just has questions? A million questions - where has he been all this time, when he time travels and there is no time, not for anyken.
It might be too hard to follow the train here, connect my dots to your i’s and cross someone else’s t’s but the loop of consonants is crucial to the result. Looping is pretty in these days all the cool kids are doing it. I even heard Ken did a loop in that freezer when he was missing all that time. Cold gluten free jupiter ring loops, round and round like the hula hoop girl with the fancy lights telling me that I have to trust in all the answers to the questions no one has asked. And she’s right, I know it, the answers come first these days, and the questions looking backwards. Proud as cocks, hens in the coop, lay me an egg and I will tell you a joke about politics and then duck and cover because you never know who is listening and these days well you just might get shot. I shit you not.
