I was pretty leery
Of her line of bullshit
Of how God was my friend.
Particularly as she kept
Rubbing her body
Against mine while she
Continued in her
Siren song attempt
At my conversion.
I could dig her
Handling my meat
And spreading her legs
In the name of the Lord.
But, way down deep,
I figured she and Jesus
Were just after my weed.
Today is Sunday and I’m going to the ocean
or maybe not. Definitely not doing the laundry
or maybe I will. Moss and even a small tree
grow in the rotten stubs of the pier pilings.
The city is Seattle and it has a macho airport.
Give me the comfort of a moose knowing its
water supply. The mosquito’s acceptance of its position
among a million mosquitoes. The pool of stagnant
water that remains one with the mothering ocean.
I drift on the air, less than a seed, a bacteria.
Or I am human, big dick, big brain containing
universal philosophic affidavit. Pleased by
the churning of my tongue, sexual enlightenment,
devout prayer, gourmet dining. I swear
it is best to be alive and to have loved Mary.
Don’t bother me
when I’ve shovel in hand
Hot emotions are hard to control
She has got to go
+ the mirror said so +
Find a new place to rest her head
She lets people have their way
and drags me down
Today, I am taking charge
I let in a strange visitor
Fearless and free–
the merge was successful
She and those pills
are buried together
and I must show my new friend around
~ my mind
Five years ago I
took an ax to my
pecker.
Fact is I
was tired of the fucker.
It ruined the line
of my pants.
Could have
used a saw but figured
an ax was quicker.
Placed it on the block,
took a swing at it
(it looked like a picadillo,
fresh from the deli).
Then, Lordy, it piped
“Hey, Pete here, what
have I ever done
to offend you, man?”
“To start with,” I said,
“You don’t piss straight, then
you lie down when called
to get up
and get up
when discretion
would serve both our needs
better.”
But we made up.
He and I talk most
weeks, we do the
best we can.
Five years on
Pete’s a reformed
character, a model
of continence.
The blind woman’s legs were shapely and smooth and Matt seared the sight of them into his calendar brain. She was two tables distant at the bookstore café, reading Terence McKenna with her fingers. He’d slipped behind her spy-like and peeked over her shoulder to see what she was reading/feeling. Matt felt comfortable looking at her because she couldn’t see him back. She couldn’t judge him by his weight or his height or the bruises on his face. She had no idea he was staring at her legs, memorizing her in her short skirt and flowered blouse. She wore big blind-person shades, giving her face a delicacy that he admired. She was beautiful in general but hell, those gams. He thought, She should insure those sweet stems with Lloyd’s of London. But the point was she couldn’t see him unless she felt him. Felt his face. And what were the chances of that?
The German Shepherd at her feet was looking at him with a bite on its mind. Matt smiled, showing his teeth to the beast. He knew how dogs talk. You had to intimidate them. The dog didn’t move. It didn’t answer back. Good dog. Matt felt like he’d won an important contest.
And then he took a swallow of coffee and felt repulsive again. The coffee had gone cool while he was staring at the blind woman’s legs. He felt it unleash in his empty guts, reaching into his bowels like a cold endoscope. He wanted to scream. He wanted to vomit the pathetic straight out of his soul. The circus in his head returned, filling him with a hurdygurdy&smellofpopcorn&sawdust&horsedroppings. He closed his eyes and lowered his head and tried to think of other things. Pleasant things. Maintain. Maintain. He’d have to regain his composure if he was going to talk to the blind woman.
And then he broke into a string of giggles at the absurdity of that ambition. The laughter bubbled out of him with volume and froth. It was too funny. Who did he think he was? He lifted his head and saw that several people were watching him laugh and blood rushed into his face. Even the blind woman “looked” up.
But he couldn’t stop laughing and the circus roared back. With effort, he squeezed the sounds off and took another quick swig of coffee. Swallowing nauseated him again. Why did he have to be so, so human? Why couldn’t he be, be suave like other guys? The light inside was way too bright.
The blind woman closed her Braille book and snapped her fingers and for a second Matt thought the snap was for him but the dog stood up and led the blind woman out of the store. She glided easily behind the dog. It knew where to go.
Matt looked at his coffee. So what now? He felt like he’d had an experience. He was suddenly exhausted.
He picked up his cup and made it out of the store without incident.
From: Everything Dissolves
Catharsis on knife-edge,
The hungering perversion
Resides underneath the dust
Of suburban decay.
The nude body,
Salaciously splayed deliciously
Upon a busy market,
Men and women and children
Bite their lips like anorexic cannibals.
They scratch their skin
As their own existence becomes an irritant.
Morgue cock, funereal cunt
Like a monolith, heralded before the people
Has them in awe.
Screens exhibit operations;
Dissection of the penis and the vulva,
Sleazy and sexily so,
Promoters vocally advertise
The infinite usage of women
That they have mounted
Upon dirty obstetrical chairs;
Men inspect the vaginas,
Asking the sellers about the measurements
And tightness of their holes
And whether the subject could
Have anal sex or not.
The anus is spread before them
And proceed to analyse the potential gaping
For rough anal sex.
Each subject is a different model
Customised for certain sexual needs and deviancies.
For those who desire a subject
For such extreme fetishes
Are taken into a nearby dome where more subjects
Are exhibited for interest.
Women tease the male models
And humiliate them regarding their size.
For girth and length inspection,
The sellers are more than happy for them to
Apply some stimulus to the male organs
To see if their product facilitates their needs.
Beyond the markets,
The homes are infested with the dead.
Subjects tossed to the side,
Next to their bins,
Awaiting for collection
So that they can be disposed of.
The streets smell of decaying flesh,
Rats scuttle amidst the bodies
Of fetid decomposition.
For those who do not have such commodities,
Rummage the alleyways for the dead.
These less fortunate individuals
That can’t afford such desired subjects
Go on to fuck the remains.
Some of them take the bodies home
And make use of their innards –
“Waste not, want not” they mutter…
The buyers keep their warranties
Should their subjects die,
However, if murdered by their owners,
The warranty is exempt and will not be able to redeem it.
Some owners have their subjects for a lifetime
But the markets try to deter the owners from doing that
As flesh needs to be capitalised,
The cycle of flesh must be constantly
Purchased, subjects are always advertised
To lure in potential customers.
“Keep your receipts and returns can be valid.”
Some owners make their subjects
Into messiahs;
They dress them up and make them godlike
And then go on to proclaim
That their subject is a deity
Willing to suffer for their desires.
Their sins consumed by the flesh of subjects,
Plasticised like cheap crucifixes from a bargain basket.
The consumption of goods eroticised for the good of man
And the future of the economy in safe hands.
Sometimes we forget,
We are also the goods that makes the greedy hands
Rub the coins erratically in their inhuman pock
My co-worker Francine (not her real name) always sent so many mixed signals.
Though a confirmed metrosexual, I consider myself straight. I try to dress well, work out, use hair- and skin-care products. Many women at work pay compliments, but Francine went further. She winked, sometimes even “copped a feel” of my suits and ties. She asked for fashion tips, and we used to go on lunch-hour shopping safaris together.
Francine’s older than I am. She’s married, but that wouldn’t stop some guys I know.
When Francine said, “Let’s meet in Conference Room A”, which was unoccupied at the time, I thought we were about to cross a line. We did, but the line we crossed was unexpected.
She whispered that the Boss had asked to see her in his office, and she needed to be sure she looked “correct”. Be brutal, she said, like on TV. Disappointed, I said she looked fine. She hiked her skirt, unbuttoned her blouse.
“Think this is too much?”
Maybe I shook my head.
She pulled off her shoes. “Do my feet smell?”
She sat on the conference table, raised her legs, and put her feet in my face. I said they smelled fine.
She gave me a peck on the cheek. “Thanks. Wait for me after work.”
She went off to face The Boss. I stayed in the Conference Room to cool down. This took a while.
The thing is, Francine’s feet did smell.
The rest of the workday was a total loss.
Francine waltzed into my cubicle after the whistle blew. “It worked!” she said. “I made vice-president. Thanks for giving me the confidence. Let’s have a drink to celebrate. My treat.”
At the bar, Francine put her hand on my knee, practically licked my ear, gave what I thought were significant looks. After a few martinis, I blurted out, “Why don’t we go to a motel or something?”
She looked at me as though I’d vomited.
“With you? But you’re a…”
For some reason, I confessed what’d gotten me so hot about her.
“Oh my god that’s so disgusting,” she said. “And now I gotta worry about foot odor on top of it.”
All I could do was pray that the stuffed shark hanging above our booth would fall on my head and kill me.
Francine said she wouldn’t pay for drinks after all. Instead, she was going to tell her husband what I’d said about her. He’s a pro wrestler or a bodyguard or something like that.
At least he won’t send mixed signals.
I’d undo my school trousers,
she’d be wearing her short
school skirt and we’d find
some discreet place and let
our hands freely explore
one another: we barely
spoke: there was nothing
to say: our eyes screamed
as our innocence began
to melt, our fingers wet
with lust and something
we didn’t understand
but couldn’t stop: we’d
lean upon each other,
feeling guilty about
something we didn’t
know of, but we were
damned if that was
going to stop us.
Base lives
Based on lies
Disguise
Tiny moves
Amongst the forests
Of old gods
The words of
Dead generations
Carved
Into the wood
Like sigils
Flashed behind
The lids of our eyes
The force of legs
Forced to walk
Into fires
Made of printed words,
Alight behind stop signs
And directed turns
Without touch
Without loss
Without flames
Witch trials
Tried on lies
Try to hide
The hidden hooves of Pan
In amongst fat tomes
Of underwhelming prose
Underneath cages of thick clothes
And the grey,
The thick, constricting grey,
Sitting atop of the
Sucking
Fucking
Laughing
Violent
Truth.
Jeffrey felt the cool breeze coming through the window and tried not to think of Karen. It had been over three months since they broke up, but Jeffrey could not get over her. He let out a long sigh and got up from the chair where he had been sitting for over an hour reminiscing about Karen. The adjacent table had several empty beer cans and discarded cigarette butts. He needed to get out of the house, he thought to himself.
He rose quickly from the chair, grabbed his car keys, then exited his apartment. A couple of his neighbors were sitting outside enjoying the cooler temperature. He waved to them as he headed down the flight of stairs to his car. His dilapidated Honda Civic sat in the parking lot among other vehicles that were in various stages of decay. He got inside and sat for a minute trying to figure out where to go. The Strip would be a great place to drown out his problems and disappear into the hordes of tourists, but he wanted somewhere a little bit quieter. Fremont was the better alternative, he thought to himself. He stated the car, pulled out into the street, and headed to the freeway.
He saw a car swerving left and right as he tried to merge into the freeway. Over the years, Vegas had become overwhelmed with drunk drivers that were both locals and tourists. He had to admit to himself that there were many times he drove drunk on the roads. He moved cautiously past the wayward car.
He drove until he got to Fremont then headed to the Plaza Hotel and Casino. There were several people standing around with drinks in hand chatting near the entrance. He parked the car then walked towards the entrance where a group of tourists drank from a plastic guitar filled with liquor. One of the men in the group stumbled and leaned against the wall as his friends laughed at him.
He headed inside and went straight to the bar. The noise of the slot machines and people talking enveloped him and he felt his spirits rise. There were several elderly couples at the bar drinking and playing Keno. He noticed an Asian woman sitting at the end of the bar alone. She caught his eye and gave him a small smile. He smiled back and asked the bartender for a Budlight and a shot of Patron. He quickly drank the shot and looked at the TV screens above the bar where a variety of sports games were playing. There were a couple of people who were totally absorbed in a football game and would remark on each team’s past games.
“What do you mean? We just got here!” An old man sitting a barstool away from Jeffrey exclaimed to a woman next to him.
“I’m tired. We have been walking all day,” his wife replied.
“Come on, we have one more day here before we head back. I don’t want to spend it in the hotel room,” he replied as he took a drink from a glass.
“I’m not going to sit here and watch you drink. I can do that at home.” She retorted as she stood up.
“Fine, go. I’ll be in later,” The man said without looking at his wife. She gave him an angry look and then walked off.
“Goddamn bitch”, the man mumbled as he turned to look at the football game.
Jeffrey looked down at his drink in amusement. He ordered another drink and saw the pretty Asian girl still sitting alone at the end of the bar. She looked to be a Filipina with long brown hair, small nose and lips. She had a distinctive mole on the left side of her neck. She was wearing a black dress that fitted her slim physique perfectly.
He wondered if she was here alone or if she was waiting for someone. She looked up from her drink and caught him looking at her. He quickly averted his eyes and looked at the television for a few seconds then slowly glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. She was looking at him with a smile on her face. Jeffrey smiled back casually. She got up and headed towards him with her drink. Jeffrey instantly felt nervous. He had never had a woman approach him before.
“Hi,” she said as she sat down on the barstool next to him.
“Hi.”
“Are you by yourself?” she asked him.
“Yeah, you?”
She nodded in reply.
“I’m surprised. A pretty lady like you by yourself,” He said with a flirtatious smile.
“Thank you.”
“I’m Jeffrey.” He said as he extended his hand towards her.
“Mika,” she said as she shook his hand. “Are you from here?” she asked him.
“Yeah, born and raised. How about you?”
She shook her head. “I was born in Guam and came here about two years ago.”
“Have you been back to Guam?”
“Nope, I don’t think I will ever go back. There’s nothing there for me,” she said nonchalantly. “You live close to here?”
“North Vegas. How about you?”
“I live a few blocks away from here. You want to get out of here?” she asked him.
He was surprised. “Yeah, sure,” He stated then finished his beer. He paid his tab and they started walking to the front entrance. “Did you drive?” he asked her.
“No, I walked over. I enjoy walking at night.”
They exited the casino and walked into the lot. Jeffrey unlocked his car and got in.
“Where to?”
“I’ll direct you,” Mika said as she buckled her seatbelt.
“Ok cool,” Jeffrey said in excitement. He followed her directions and pulled up in front of an apartment complex. He pulled into an empty space and they got out of the car and headed up the stairs. She pulled out a key and opened a door on the third floor landing. She stepped inside and closed the door behind them.
Mika took off her shoes and headed into the kitchen. “You want a drink?” she asked him. “Sure,” he said as he looked around her apartment.
There were framed black and white photos of cities from around the world covering the living room wall. A tan couch and love seat were placed adjacent to each other with a glass coffee table between them. A large plasma sceen TV was mounted to the opposite wall.
Mika grabbed a bottle of wine and wineglasses from a cupboard, placing them on the marble countertop between them.
“Your place is very nice,” Jeffrey said as he walked into the kitchen. She poured the wine into the glasses and handed Jeffrey a glass.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re very welcome,” she said with a smile.
“You live here by yourself?” he asked as he glanced around.
“Yup.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a masseuse. What about you?”
“I’m a security guard at a casino.”
“Really? You are so skinny for a security guard.”
He laughed. “Don’t be fooled by my appearance. I’m quite tough.”
She laughed and leaned into him. Jeffrey pulled her towards him and kissed her. She pressed against him and pulled his head down to hers, her tongue darting in and out of his mouth. She held his head in her hands. When she bit his lower lip, Jeffrey cried out in pain.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she pulled back.
“It’s ok,” he said with a laugh.
“Let me take a look at it,” she said. She bent his lip forward gently to which he winced.
“It’s bleeding a little. I’m sorry. Let me clean it up for you.” She licked the blood from his hurt lip. Jeffrey looked at her in surprise as she sucked on his lip.
“All better now?” she asked him with a sly grin.
“Yeah,” Jeffrey said. For some reason he felt himself getting aroused by what she’d just done.
“Come on,” she told him. She grabbed his hand and led him to her bedroom. There was a queen-sized bed placed near a window with red drapes. Clothes were scattered all over the floor and Jeffrey could see lots of lingerie and high heeled shoes tossed haphazardly in the room. She pushed him on the bed and started to take off his clothes. Jeffrey ran his hands up and down her body in anticipation. He pulled off her dress to reveal a slim tan body. She pulled off her bra and panties and mounted him. She started to kiss his chest and Jeffrey closed his eyes in pleasure.
“Ow!” he cried as she bit him just below his nipple.
“Sorry, I like to bite. Is it too much for you?” she asked him.
“It’s ok, but not too hard,” he said.
“Ok, I’ll be gentle,” she replied with that same sly smile on her face. She went back to kissing him and Jeffrey ran his hands through her hair. She bit him again on his abdomen but this time more gently. As they had sex, she bit him frequently and even drew blood many times to which she licked it up. Jeffrey found this quite arousing and started to relish the quick sharp pain from her teeth.
After they were both spent, Mika brought the wine and wineglasses into the room and they drank and talked before Jeffrey had to go to work. Mika gave him her number and told him that they can meet at her place the following night after 10pm when he was done with work. He excitedly told her he would be there.
When he got home and went into the bathroom to shower, Jeffrey saw the bite marks all over his body. He was surprised at how deep some of the bites appeared and how many there werre. He chuckled to himself in amusement before turning in for the night.
The following day, Jeffrey spent his entire shift thinking about Mika as he answered customer questions and watched drunks lose their money. As soon as he clocked out, he went quickly home and changed. He gave Mika a call to let her know he was on his way. When he arrived at her place, Mika answered the door wearing a short black skirt and wifebeater. There was a plate of sandwiches and a bottle of wine on the table.
“How was your day?” She asked him as they sat on the couch eating.
“It was good. Nothing ever exciting happens at work. How about you?” He asked her.
“It was fine. Not too busy.” She said. She took a drink from her wineglass then mounted him as he was eating. Jeffrey laughed in surprise.
“Wait, let me put this down.” He set the sandwich on the coffee table.
“Sorry, I’ve been waiting all day for this,” she said as she kissed his neck. Jeffrey grabbed her ass and started squeezing it. She started to nibble at his neck and then the familiar sharp pain hit Jeffrey. He did not cry out but moaned instead. They headed into the bedroom where they had sex, this time with her biting him more forcibly than before. The pain was sharper and more intense.
“Does it hurt too much?” she asked as she felt him tense up.
“No, its fine,” he said as he welcomed the pain.
They began to see each other every day for two weeks with Mika’s bites becoming more and more sharper and pronounced on Jeffrey’s skin. By this point, his body had become completely covered in bite marks. He enjoyed the pain and wanted to feel it as often as possible. He was very curious about what made her want to bite people and lick their blood, so he decided to ask her one night.
She was lying beside him with her head on his chest. “Whatever got you into biting people?” he asked.
“I had a boyfriend years ago who asked me to bite him, and at first I was turned off by it, but then I started to enjoy it as I saw how much he liked it.”
“Do you bite every guy that you have sex with?” he asked her.
“Yeah if they like it,” she said as she kissed his chest. “You seem to enjoy it. I love how your face gets as I bite you.”
“It does feel great, but man my body looks ravaged from all the bites.”
“Do you want to experience deeper bites? I promise you will feel so much pleasure that you will cum just from me biting you alone.”
Jeffrey laughed. “Really? That has happened before?”
“Yeah, one of my ex’s came for like a minute after I bit him. You wanna try it?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said cautiously.
“Don’t worry, it will hurt a lot, but I promise it is so worth the pleasure.”
She got up and went to a drawer near the bed.
“What are you getting?” he asked her as she rummaged around, coming out with a black square box.
“This,” she said as she pulled out a set of sharp metal teeth from the box. Jeffrey sat up in alarm as she fit them into her mouth.
“You are going to bite me with those?” Jeffrey practically shrieked.
“Yeah, I know it looks scary,” Mika said, her voice garbled through the teeth, “but they will make you feel so good…”
“Actually, I’m okay,” Jeffrey said with a laugh. “I don’t need any more bites for tonight.”
“Come on, don’t be scared,” she said. “It will be the best sensation you have ever experienced.”
“No thanks. I’m fine.” Jeffrey said with finality.
“Come on,” Mika said as she slid towards him.
“No,” Jeffrey said as he got up and out of her way.
Mika laughed. Jeffrey laughed nervously while watching her intently. She lurched towards him and grabbed his arm. He yanked his arm away and dashed out of the room. She chased after him, laughing and attempting to grab him.
“Cut it out, Mika. This isn’t funny!” he shouted as he tried to avoid her, scurrying behind the couch.
“Don’t be scared,” she said with a sinister laugh. “It’ll be fun, I promise…”
She darted toward him, faster this time, but he pushed her out of the way and ran back into the bedroom to get his clothes. He grabbed his pants and shirt as Mika came running after him, laughing hysterically. They faced each other with Mika blocking the doorway.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jeffrey yelled.
She started making tiger noises as she tiptoed toward him, making as if to pounce.
“Stop playing around Mika! That’s enough!” Jeffrey shouted.
That’s when she made her move.
“Get away from me, you crazy bitch!”
He flung her aside and heard a loud crash from behind him as he raced out of the room, fumbling with his pants as he ran for the door. The sound of Mika’s insane laughter followed him as he swiftly exited the apartment.
He flew down the stairs with his pants half on and jumped into his car. Peeling off into the night, he could’ve sworn that he still heard her laughing behind him.
Horror Sleaze Trash 