Cloudless heat: the sun bawdy and swollen, blazing rays on the cast.
Two guys, wet and junk-sick on the rollercoaster.
Mark, 22.
Ray, 25.
/ that celestial sensation is what we’re after man I mean I’m talkin some astronomical shit here man /
The mouth gapes a mad jester smile. Lop-sided and red. Contorted, farcical, obscene.
/ for real man there was a time when I couldn’t tell you the difference between a subject and an author man not even shittin you man and now I’m lost in some kind of psychosexual reading of my own existence man you know what I mean are you feelin what I’m sayin man /
Ray’s head dipping into the ether, bald spot exposed in the sunlight. Cotton candy cacophony. Carny complacency. Stereo synchronizing screams of uncredited extras.
(Def.: a state of utter bliss or potential mania. Side effects may include leaking yellow liquid with unpleasant aroma, lesions or other forms of bodily infection.)
/ you’ve been warned motherfucker I’m gonna hurl /
The ride is now malevolent. Tracks coil serpentine and plunge into Hades. Death-cries and dismay rent the air.
(Entry fee: $20 or $50, all rides included.
Have a fun day.)
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