alittlepoison

high tension wires and i’m in the sunshine band.
i am a bundle of fibres shorting on caffeine.
afflicted by rhinovirus, mucus flows as profusely as the sweat of another day in the antipodean sun.

    schoolgirls in their summer gingham stroll down the pedestrianised street two by two like noah’s wards, clutching roses, and i realise it’s valentine’s day.
    the streets are full of love and my mind is full of sombrero fallout.
    a gingham girl of fourteen or so stands at an atm, the hand of a man, surely older than me, firmly planted on her sweet rump.
    a young man on an early drunk simulates fuck with a bronze statue of a pig.
    i walk fast and maneuver around the slow pedestrians like a god, jittering, mumbling and laughing on a cold/coffee frenzy.
    i play the emo game, counting the number of “my chemical romance” t-shirts i see, tallying my points like bananas, and thinking of emus.
    a prophet of the absurd and the profound once told me the argentinian lake duck has an “eight inch spiny wanger”, and i wonder how the emu measures up.
    i have changed my briney shirt three times today.
    i walk past the strip strip; club x, the palace (featuring “genuine xxx european porn star”), the adult centre, the erotic internet store, the peepshow place.
    i walk past an old building, the broken bricks and mortar still visible sticking out from the side where another building used to be attached.
    it’s valentine’s day and i want to tell everyone i love them before i turn mean.