Twinkle, Twinkle

Twinkle, Twinkle

Mark Coleman

  The moment passed. She walked one way, and I walked the other. Towards the flashing 24. Took a seat. Ordered a drink. The lights dancing at the bottom of the glass. Schools of neon fish behind the bar. Grabbed a ponytail and pulled back a head. Question marks in the eyes. Exclamations gathering. A weak laugh. Put it back where I found it, and step out.

  The flame twisting away. Avoiding the tip. Toss it in the gutter, and head towards the end of the block. An alley looking enticing but unsure in the gaits it swallows. Go down it. Legs everywhere. Down the middle and up the sides. Race to the other end. Hunched over with the breath choking out. Get the pack back out, this one lights. Saunter. Headlights closing in. Staring straight at me. Malicious as Hell. Buy a newspaper. The words come twisting out, snapping and snarling.

  A little Classified boat, and a hot dog cart spilling mustard. Make my way to it. Screaming Armenian throwing relish. Children crying. Panic. Headlines deny solace. Almost lose my footing. Castors spinning out. Hands in pockets. Head further down. Radulae scaling the lampposts. Skinned cats hanging from balcony windows. Saucers shattered underneath. Rivulets of milk running like spilt seed down a catamite’s back.

  Try to find relief on a stranger’s shoulder. Fedora shadow creeping down the ridges to the toothy smile. Words splash out. Start planting their flags and proclaiming victory. Tears turning yellow and flowing back. Pouts sitting defiant. Swinging at a prick below the belt. Catch it on the nose. But fail to knock its block off. Grin caught up skirts decorating the missing person posters.

   Knife and fork fighting it out over a steak bleeding out on a lusterless platter. Staining the tablecloth. Silver napkin rings with cocks pushed through them. Needle play from a collared harlot with a sewing basket at her side. Blanket over her legs. Calico in her lap. Rocking chair scowling. Varnish bubbling. Pustules on whore’s tongues that are marionettes in Sunday cabarets for venomous looking tykes.

  Pot shots taken at pot bellies. Run. Gnarled hands sneaking their way between barred windows. Index finger curling. Fiery pinwheel lollipops. Tossed off the roller coaster. Drowning. Vats of fat kicked into the street. Liposuction machines sucking like cheap streetwalkers. Head bobbing up and down. Hair slithering on the thighs. Fangs at a vein. Confusion.

  Walking down the aisle with a flashlight flickering. Romantic gibber gabber on the screen. Projector making strange noises. Discovering the butter greased handjobs. Squinty ching chong blowjobs. Popcorn bucket tricks. Heads swaying. Mouths receiving. Cunts snaking fists. Twizzler straws up anus and urethra alike. Sugary secretions puddling. Dykes fellating top heavy dildos. Slapping dicks pocketed in cheeks. Trying to force two down a gullet. Twinks twinkling. Batting eyelashes.

  Usher with nightmares reflected in his inky pupils. Brained with a fire extinguisher, and dragged out the exit. Cut wide open. Stuffing ripped out, and used for on-set snow. Director bullhorning festive cheer. Jesus boning Magdalene. Wolves baring foam and too many teeth. Tethered up. Awaiting snuff stuff for the discerning viewer.

  Hollywood sign rotting away. Green dripping. Dreams stabbed repeatedly after a cramped trip in a trunk to the hills where they’ve been finding severed heads. Break out successes in the back rooms that reek of charred flesh. Fucked like a star but denied a spot in the constellation. Just dust off a moth. Beating against the lampshade. A bulb on a wire in an unfinished basement.

  Birds with their asses hanging out of their shorts making bulges in little boy’s pants. Birds in cages shocked. Dragged through electrified water. Birds in nests pecking through freshly laid eggs. Feathers floating down. Man on corner. Cigar in mouth. Puffing away. Shades and a wide brimmed hat. Birds with their beaks snipped off still stupidly trying to wing it to the top.