Had to keep looking, she was bound to take
her top off, the babe in the tub. Guys around, slouching over to her , trying
to make sense, connect as they say. Was
going to use it in a sermon, sometime. Big brother, big let down, emperors
clothes theory repeats itself like fashion. For a moment he wondered if all, he
stopped wondering as she stepped out of the tub. Camera close up, her bottom
almost see through. They market this to everyone he thought making a note, was all over the news, loads of money, loads of silence, no one screams stop
when the slots keep paying, the slots keep playing. He wondered, was he watching the last
days of Pompeii
Mention the word bomb, federal
offence, so the reporter said, anchor
girl, good looking of course, cute he thought, certainly no Sophia Loren, this
chick looked fake Italian, too much make up, fake tan in jan, too early in the
year, who’d believe it anyway. Word bomb though was serious, serious when
mentioned, people arrested for joking about it, the word bomb, ten years in
jail. It reminded him of a time long ago when mention of the word Christian
meant death, a time later when the word jew meant death, tutu hutsi, Islam, Muslim
too. Bomb sounded like it had religious connation attached. The power of the
spoken word. He was glad he’d read the bible, well flicked through it one
evening. Value of the word bomb, could move thousands by its very mention. The
word famine hardly raised..he forgot for a moment. He was doing research. Penis
used to be a word of strength, vagina sounded technical, scrotum sounded
painful, and mammary sounded functional. Now it was all just pricks pussies
balls and tits, in whatever order turns you on, no forgetting your anus. Words,
he liked the power of words, and the way media globally tag words and use them
against people. Who they upset didn't matter, unless they had access to, you
guessed it, bombs.
No comments:
Post a Comment