I want to see it
The Persian prick you love to hate still
raises a sardonic chuckle
October 15, 2003
The Iranian
She stepped into the bus with a deep mediterranean tan covered
with orange blossoms and her vulva with fresh crabs.
"I want to see it," she said.
Quiero ver lo.
Khayyam looked at her hand. Her nails were
polished in five different colors: blue, red, yellow, black and
green. Colored beads covered her wrists like a Persian carpet.
On her left hand was tattooed BAKHTIARI and on her right KHAYYAM.
She
filled the bus with sand and orange blossoms handing out the
Rubaiyat. He threw gold Spanish coins at her feet, laying down
the red carpet,
get down on it. He pushed a lethal injection into her juicy
orange indecently, yes, fragile hypertense kineticism, eating
white cake with
cinnamon and orange icing.
She knew it was Spanish summer when he killed the bull
and blood spurtted on the window pane, periously close to collapse.
"Now
I gotta wet 'cha", he said and
pissed-off.
The Persian prick you love to hate still
raises a sardonic chuckle in the fishing village of Calpe that harks all
the way back to
acid-tinged 2001 Nishapur an old black snake throbbing
a quick one while honking the horn,
Defying anyone to take his crown with an
odd flash or two behind the bus.
Antsy.
Natch.
LET ME SEE IT.
He took it out and let her see it.
B&O$O∑O"O!O?OøO=O)O(O/O÷*O:O>M
I didn't care, I was just happy to be there.
PENIS - %$?=)"ø - ESPANA * Send
this page to your friends
|
