Monkeys

Nymphet strumpet whores cascade down Picasso Avenue in giant stiletto heels. Crack monkeys in sharp threads and wearing sharper faces tap the windows of passing limousines with black – blue metallic shiny raven sheen, driven by sanguine velvet dust junkies with golden smiles and populated by porcine businessmen with their million dollar hookers.

”Weed?, speed?, oxy’s?, meth?, smack?, crack?, coke?, crank?, acid?, E’s?, 'shrooms?, ludes?, peyote?, snake oil?, embalming fluid?” Sample sewn satin linings open like bat wings. “I can turn you on.”

Suburban voyeurs are hassled by dealers, whores and panhandle cops, student vessels trapped in the neon glow. Fledglings crunch popcorn as they pitter patter through pools of blood that await the rain. Zebras and Lions stalk the crowded sidewalks, Vultures feed on carrion. It’s a dog eat dog world, only they ate all the dogs a long time ago. The cops frisk the feeble hearted for dope and pennies, peanuts, but that’s what you get when you hire monkeys. 

A moon faced born again ding dong chants Hari Krishna hip hop style. His hands spasm before him, signing in ancient Indian semaphore – ‘stay away’. The wolves haven’t eaten him yet ‘cause it’s considered bad luck to eat crazy meat. The innocent are herded and fleeced in a revolving strip show of brutality, horror and vice. Layers of degradation and corruption are peeled for their delectation. Most of them will make it home, but some will end up with their teeth in somebody’s necklace. The rest is just hamburger meat.

Finis

The Abattoir

The abattoir was secreted away amongst a warren of dereliction. It stood alone amidst the burned out buildings and piles of rubble. Its red brick walls were mostly covered by a coat of black soot, courtesy of many local warehouse fires. The soot thinned out at the base so it looked like a black occult temple which was dipped in blood, like the feet of Tezcatlipoca the terrible god of Aztec legend. The clock tower towered above the entrance like a great black phallus. Through the gates below countless thousands were once led to the slaughter. The entrance reeks with the fetid stench of rotting flesh. The holding pens, arcane iron contraptions stained red ochre by rust and congealed blood. Meat hooks hang silent witness to the butchery committed in this meat factory, this industrial necropolis. This temple of savagery is not deserted. There is a priesthood yet, practitioners of a dark and unholy art. There are others too, the innocent abandoned. Victims of a satanic press gang, penned like cattle awaiting slaughter. Herded into the bloody death traps where iron jaws are clamped around their necks. They await the skull cracking hammer blow. They wait to be made meat.

The End

Finis