get in the booth -



punch in the number



when they pick up



don't say a word



just listen



shout at the double



from the damned from



a dry throat



dry eye chuckle



insistent / elastic (but never plastic)



thick / butt jump pierced by



the kids



sweet angel voice sinister



(what are they thinking)



guitars sliced with scribble



graffiti sprawled across the hemispheres; stuttered, stunted, dual-mono machine dreams flashing sudden stereophobic and back again / two screens alone together



squeezing shaking oozing metallic pool like brain blood,



slowly draining away all mental life.



shaking ass / nihility at most corrodes



candy's gone no more



fun