Twisted Fiction Press

Archive for March, 2009

Dead Celebrity

by on Mar.19, 2009, under Uncategorized

Dead Celebrity FACT 1: I go by the name of DJ Person, except in Jersey where they call me Poison. You probably heard about my Desert Storm tour, playing to the devil dogs outside of Faluja because in my opinion, the music scene in Baghdad is not what it was. So. The ongoing arrangement I have with Jimmy the Shoe reaches its use-by date toward the end of summer, 1993. Jimmy drops by the Jersey studio to welcome me home. One minute we’re doing Bollie and Bolivian Brown, the next I’m lying in a ditch in Ridgewood. A couple of kids nudging my legs with their Nikes, kneel down to feel for a pulse, jump back. I open my eyes behind my ‘Bans and watch them pointing at all the places on my body that still hurt. They go through my pockets, stare at the tell-tale dreadlocks. Then the penny drops—shit, it’s that DJ. The older girl jumps up, says run for it. I grind my teeth and will my arm out—a forest fire bearing down on my chest—grab her by the ankle. Pee runs down her legs, trickles warm across my knuckles around her ankle. I tighten my grip. With my free hand, I take off the ‘Bans, show them what Jimmy did to my eyes. Drool bungies from the lip of her kid brother. I float off for a time on the nausea, my heart’s on fire, a chill so bone-deep I shiver. Feel the cell-phone drop back onto my chest to land on a broken rib with an incredibly painful thunk. I wait for the wallet but it doesn’t come and I wince on the inside—I was that savvy once. I hear her whimper but will she find the strength to scream? Or barf all over me instead. Time is not my friend. My ears fill with the bloody tears I weep at the fear of not being alive. Sounds like the beach. Places I’ve been. I hold on tight to her bony ankle. Turn to the child.
‘Learn,’ I say. ‘To forget.’
(continue reading…)

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by on Mar.04, 2009, under poetry_lyrics

‘In the future, there will be wonky donks to kingdom come.’ ‘And mystery jets as far as the eye—’ ‘I wish I were a mystery.’  ‘Well you’re not. You’re an open bookmark.’  ‘That’s not fair. Heaps you don’t know about my nether regions.’ ‘Because your nether regions are beneath me.’ ‘But, I thought it was my turn on top.’  ‘Screw you.

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