8/28/08

shampoo arsenal

coconut jizz flowing through my folicles, icecream runs of a fruit crisp, the best dessert they have at the hume, at your service

"yeah, it's radical, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's totally radical," Anthony agrees. He discovered the word last night, he thinks he may have heard it from his dad. "It means, 'we agree'."

"Does it?" He reminds me of sentence case. It's an endless trial. The trial of the millenium. Italian folicles?

"No, it means cool."

"No, it means, 'we agree'," Anthony says, annotating the phrase splice. A natural breaking point. Con fuoco.

"Anyway, what you were saying about the new playground..."

"Oh right, thanks for reminding me dude." I just learned that word yesterday, hanging out with the cool seventh grade dudes. Too cool for school. What are they doing here? Kicking balls off the wall. Kicking them out of bounds. It was mesmerizing watching them. They think I'm cute. I'm a 2nd grade comp prog math whiz - number muncher - factoring is my favourite game - i munch numbers - slow on the uptake though - computers arrest my attention - people, not so munch - languages, con migo

"You were saying?"

I've got Anthony's attention. He's hanging on my every word. I'd better have a good one. Well that's what I'm here for. I want to entertain him while he's as suggestible as me. While we're hanging out at recess, this is what we do, passing the time. It's radical.

"It'll be a meander. A meander through the stars."

"Yeah? A meyander? That sounds radical."

"Yeah, it totally will be."

"But I'm thinking more like, a meander through the gravel."

A gravel meander? Yeah, what more can you expect at recess? But you can express, if you're into that sort of thing. Many numbers to munch. Many factors. Factoring is one thing I'm good at that and I remember. I will take advantage of his suggestible state.

I just want to entertain. I know it will crash. My fantasies will entertain, inspire, light up his eyes, I see that, I dare not look but I taste that light in the peripherals, in the reflections in the gravel, in the rain coated pebbles in the cold november rain, it's hard to hold a candle like axl sings, he's keeping the fire burning, Justin told me so, I haven't heard the originals but I've heard Justin's renderings, he introduces us to all the cool music, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Guns N Roses, I smoke my cigarette with style, that's so wrong. Gravel mining with ice cream sundae driping off our folicles, it could be your trip.

"Gravel meander? I choose to disagree."

Anyway, I will strive to entertain, but I don't have the talent to sustain this fantasy of mine for longer than this recess or maybe another two. All will be made clear after Volleyball class.

If we had to thank all the fuckers who have been cool to us in the two and a half years since 'puppets':

A: Long lists are fucking boring

B: Do you really give a shit anyway?

I don't have the talent, but I can and will take advantage of that light in our eyes and that gleam in my folicles and the promise of dairy queen tonight after baseball practice if god is granting favors today, I daren't ask - suggestions:

"Yeah, well did I tell you about the tower? Yeah, they're gonna build it in the corner over there. My dad showed me the plans. What I heard is they're gonna show movies in there three times a week."

"Yeah? Radical. What movies?"

"Star Wars. Rambo."

The light brightens. Goes well with the overcast concrete. Creep Street.

"Yeah, Rambo I, II, III... IV. Did you see that one?"

"No. But I will right?"

"Yeah, let's watch it next week when they build the new playground."

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