flowers of disruption No.30
by trilobyte
the zine for tasha and anjee
*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)*)

gray hair and purple eyes and green mistresses in disguise and very red
portraits of elusive bread and vomit-inducing thoughts of ladies in bed. 
harrowing minds of forgotten times, bullets of hate and number-three
thighs.  

who yearned to learn of garage bands and candy-cane lands and groping in the
dark for girls in parks?  remind me to wonder about those things i already
know.  reach that fist into my head through the hole in my skull from the
war.  grab onto my bushy organic thoughts.  throw them at walls.  rip them
apart until they are shredded bits of glory.  set them on fire.  run away
before i can charge at you and pummel you.  

treat me like that boy who used to tie your shoe.  bubble-up giggles.  dye
your hair til it won't grow anymore.  even corpses' hair still grows.  jump
onto a bandwagon littered with grease and exhaust, follow it until you
encounter a station wagon.  grip its bike rack.  let the wind blow your
face and inflate your cheeks, because you are trent reznor.

kangaroos spit thorns at my behind while i run away bare-assed.  the
aborigines yell obscenities and i ain't welcome no more at that crib.  a
tree is my only friend.  a tree with bark rougher than tony's uvula.  a
french sort of tree with leaves that blow and scream.

tony cooks pizza for the man.  tony runs barefoot through the sand.  tony is
god, bow down to the man;  tony gets sexed and eats chicken afterward. 
tony is a krishna, graduated from the lower plains of south africa, ready
for the new millenium, armed to the teeth of steel.

shake fists at me, i am not shaken.  pour corrosive acid on my head, i shall
faint.  hang me upside down from a golden shaft of frozen urine, i am made
happy.  aggravate me.  emasculate me.  chop the chives off my armpits and
gravitate toward fields of fresh tendrils.  undo the bonds of friendship
and allow me to flutter free among windy spores and venereal disease.

smell that aroma!  it's dying rotten flesh!  mmmmMMMMmmMMmMM!  tasty to the
touch, friendly from the get-go.  number-two returning from sodom's
gemorrah.  bend over and pick up the dope.  grendel reacts better to
insults.  

            WE SHALL THROW A SEANCE FOR THAT DEAD MAN AMONG US
            HE NEEDS TO BE HEARD 
            THE WORDS DESCRIBING HIS DEATH 
            THE TRUTH!
            
    deadman:   thank you all for handing me the microphone.  i've got a few
words to share with you about what death is.
    crowd:        <applause>
    deadman:  yes, that's very nice.  ok, well, see, death is a rose that's
fallen apart but remains in a vase.
    crowd:        <question marks>
    deadman:  death is a gutteral cry of release and then a journey that
never starts.
    crowd:        <more confusion>
    deadman:    death hates to be referred to in third-person and really
doesn't appreciate chinese food.  
    crowd:        <applause>
    deadman:  death told me a really good joke the other day about a baby in
a microwave.
    crowd:        <question marks>
    deadman:    i'm sure you've all heard it already so i won't bother, but
death also wears decently fashionable clothing and likes girls with a sense
of humor.
    crowd:        <smiles>
    deadman:    ever eat fish?
    man in crowd:  yes!
    deadman:    fish is the swimming, feeding, breathing, gilling, waddling
epitome of death's every last motion and thought.  thank you for your time.
     crowd:    <applause, departure>




kung fu mind?  it's sweatpants time!  

carry me up the stairs!  i can't walk!

bend bend bend bend bend 

SQUAWK




is it defeat or just another completed conquest?  we'll never find out from
the loser, let's ask the defense.

    us:    "was it defeat or just another completed conquest?"
    them:    "i bent her over a table, man!"
    us:    "did you win?"
    them:    "what do you mean, 'win'?"
    us:    "did you win?"
    them:    "sure!"

there you have it folks, the man has won.  just like how jesus invented the
guitar and special kids need special treatment.  just like wearing a suit
to your honeymoon and then taking it off in front of your parents. 
"haven't seen this in a while, have ya?"  you ask them, and they are
shocked and your family is feeling very uncomfortable.  "well she's already
seen it more than you!"  and your tattoo just gleams out to the folks and
it says "I LOVE MOM"  and there's a piercing in your belly button too but
that doesn't scare them much.  everyone drinks more from their wine and you
sit down, naked, and enjoy the rest of your meal, holding the hand of your
bride.

rest for a while.  take a deep breath.  pop out your eyeballs.  go to sleep.
 watch a movie.  but i'm not really here.  i am but an apparition.  i am but
floating in the cosmic ethereal void, but a circle of energy -- THE circle
of energy, and all that is important, and everyone focus on ME!~   watch me
shake my head assuredly.  watch my gleaming teeth glow and i'll watch you
as you go.

(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(
flores von disruptionen
numero thirty
nov.21,1999
tell yer friends to slobber grease
