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{my body is a white trash home improvement} jason "juice" hardung I jerk off more when my pockets are empty. Like the free game that comes with a home video game console it's not the most complicated or the best graphics but it came packaged with the game so I take the ride. Over and over and once before I get out of bed and once when I get in. There are three precise moments in life when euphoria happens the two seconds during orgasm the moment heroin hits the blood stream and death. Some day my body will be buried in dirt flowers will bloom from my chest like an old toilet a tractor tire a rusted wheel barrow or a claw- footed bath tub. I will be an accessory perched in a double wide trailer's tiny yard as Confederate flags and windsocks wave above my remains. And when my eye sockets become ant hills that resemble scale models of Mt. Vesuvius young punks will still gather under the neon drone of Shell Station lights burning into nothing. Old men will talk of war weather and lawns in barber shop chairs VFW bars and yellow plastic fast food restaurant booths. Murderers will still stare through razor wire skies and wonder what it would have been like to sail across the Tropic of Cancer or just sail through life without taking one. Babies will be born and some will die before they can walk and some will grow up and get married and some will have everything they ever wanted while an amateur gardener pulls weeds from between my ribs. |
