Money is ridonkulous & in the dark the only word I know is Tennessee, merchandise, plague calendar. Light doesn't need an autobiography but we all need something sometime. In Tennessee every word means graveyard & every punctuation mark means Na nana na na nanana na na & every woman has the head of Vin Diesel & every turtle has a Vin Diesel head & dogs got that too. Round here we call that an Oklahoma kiss-party, elsewhere known as a St Louis rope-burn—really it's just fifty pills of aspirin & I'm your host, the super villain. I'm not watery, I'm watrous. And the rivers look like a bucket of dimmer bulbs with “Downeaster Alexa” on repeat like a heaping cup of flour, gloves on every branch of a bush wearing a Busch t-shirt, feelin-it so hard for every tree, tasking concordances of _____________ & ______________ as the last remaining Blockbuster blasts black music & the only thing that matters in a painting is the number of strokes. And someone, please, fuck that drummer before he starts talking about M.I.A. I wore my BBQ hotpants to the fancy dance. And then my best bro shows with BBQ condoms. All these hot-ass stumps in the aisles of a TJ Maxx, as if there was nothing left in me to keep me from fucking a stump. Not today. Not in my house. The moon doesn’t want to take a bath—the best stories are about nothing.
Mathias Svalina is the author of three books, most recently The Explosions from Subito Press. He is an editor for Octopus Books. Big Lucks will release his book Wastoid in 2014.
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