Runes

By Anthony Madrid

Published January 8th, 2010

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Runes

ROUTE 50: Damen: to 35th/Archer, Orange Line. October 12th, 2007. And coming into the home stretch.

This. Is Insanity. Doors open on the left, at Insanity. They have put a padlock on Hell, and I–am trying out combinations.

Here come Hippy Santa Claus with his overalls and plastic flute. Warm as a bruise, I eye the entrance to Armadillo and Napkin.

This day let armored insect advance its bebarbative suit. It tears nor the case, nor the bagged and beautiful muscle . . .

Beautiful Lady, show me your muscle. (Show me your muscle, Beautiful Lady, and show me your holster, guy with a gun!)

Officer Hunkasaurus is stripped to the duty belt. And now they’re painting him with wrestling oil to make him even sexier–!

His task is to shimmy up to the top of that flagpole. God! it’s like a heat wave in Syria: just look at these suffering birds:–

Common-as-popcorn hopping sparrows with their mouths all hanging open: It lets the overeager heat out like the screaming end of a teapot.

Poor little perching birds, boiling like the blob of water that precedes the flame up the cubical kitchen matchstick!

Going to Ife, we face Ife; coming back, we still face the same way. The skull is too small for the brain. The tines on this fork are all splayed out.

MARDUD, whose magic song made a mountain fold its tiny arms, will now effect the dissolution of the Book of Proverbs.

That Starlight-Embroidered Sash

OH, it was a medical FACT that he was gorgeous.

Skin, hair, teeth–all precious metals.

And who could resist his flamenco-inflected English? Gay or straight,

No man could withstand the headlong strength of the MANGET.

Ah, those ancient magic horseshoes! They knew how to get things done.

As you pressed the extremities together, came a point where one would violently flip.

So, let’s up on our stiletti, gentlemen! Let us not for a moment forget

How winning it is when a sexy young thing is clumsy on her heels.

Let’s hear it for all licking and biting. Let’s hear it for Bend Over, Boyfriend.

Let’s hear it for those black plastic belts with rows of silver pyramids!

I say we will have no more marriages! I want to teach and be taught.

I want to be kitted out for every possible erotic contingency.

I want to say: “Today she is Queen of Beauty, with a tiara to rival the sun,–

A long, green gown and a bathing suit with the #4 tag still on!

She has defeated the Vietnamese sexpot and the seven-foot blonde in slacks:

They have to stand back and watch the bouquet bounce into her happy hands!

That bundled and crackling rosebush! That starlight-embroidered sash!

And that final walk down the runway, punctuáted with camera flash!

Stand aside, you lesser beauties, for MADRID is coming through!

Miss Teen Queen Photogenic, soon to be seen on pay-per-view!”