Friday, August 27, 2010

Tu No Existe

His wrangle jangle gait did not betray his intentions. The change in his pocket made not a peep from their nest of chaos. Troubled minds looked the other direction for fear of enlightenment. The rock n roll from his heart flowed from his eyes and mouth like a subversive ghetto blaster. He was a rambler by nature and passion stoked his fires on frigid lonely nights in the darkness. Passion was his saviour, his muse and his nourishment. A crucifixion couldn't stop him or his wrangle jangle ways. Time was merely a rumor overheard in riots and bread lines. For the reality of his essence was that no one even knew if he existed or not.


Anonymous said...

you know better muthafucker -- don't you remember what the tranny told you at El Bullpen?


'Wrangle jangle' is perfect.

Thomas Arthur Schaefer said...

"The change in his pocket made not a peep..."

Aaron Barker said...

Yeah Ryan the tranny said, "I not gays."