Contributor: Catfish McDaris
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I slash his throat and hands with my machete, as the scream escapes, I cut it into thin slices and deal them like a deck of tarot cards, then I wake up. Some nights it’s playing chess with Elvis and I wake before I checkmate the king. Or I’m a phrenologist and feeling the lumps on Hitler’s head before shoving a grenade in his mouth. Sometimes the night gathers me up in its arms and I listen to the mermaids whisper and laugh. Or the continuous sex of knocking boots with beautiful twin sisters, they decide to treat me down and doggie. They make me a nasty sandwich, by wiping their ass on bread, spitting on the cheese, blowing boogers in the mustard, jerking out some pubes for the lettuce and slicing dog doo for the main ingredient and covering it with salsa. It’s not as bad as it sounds. They let me shave their armpits and vaginas and lick them baldy clean. Then I take them to Benihaha’s Jap Café, this Asian dude slaps steak and onions on a hot grill and fashions the pile into a tiny steamboat and manipulates it across the heated surface, making it puff smoke rings. He then divides it and flips it into our bowls with rice in soy sauce and does some tricks with chicken and shrimp. Tossing the salt and pepper shakers up in the air and catching them on top his chef’s hat. I go to the can and come back and he’s dropped down on my girls, playing Ring Around Tokyo Rosie. When he gives me the bill, I need an ambulance and an armored car. I just wish I could mellow out and have some smooth dreams again.
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Catfish McDaris’ most infamous chapbook is Prying with Jack Micheline and Charles Bukowski. His best reading was in Paris at the Shakespeare and Co. Bookstore. Catfish McDaris Mcdar3@aol.com
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I slash his throat and hands with my machete, as the scream escapes, I cut it into thin slices and deal them like a deck of tarot cards, then I wake up. Some nights it’s playing chess with Elvis and I wake before I checkmate the king. Or I’m a phrenologist and feeling the lumps on Hitler’s head before shoving a grenade in his mouth. Sometimes the night gathers me up in its arms and I listen to the mermaids whisper and laugh. Or the continuous sex of knocking boots with beautiful twin sisters, they decide to treat me down and doggie. They make me a nasty sandwich, by wiping their ass on bread, spitting on the cheese, blowing boogers in the mustard, jerking out some pubes for the lettuce and slicing dog doo for the main ingredient and covering it with salsa. It’s not as bad as it sounds. They let me shave their armpits and vaginas and lick them baldy clean. Then I take them to Benihaha’s Jap Café, this Asian dude slaps steak and onions on a hot grill and fashions the pile into a tiny steamboat and manipulates it across the heated surface, making it puff smoke rings. He then divides it and flips it into our bowls with rice in soy sauce and does some tricks with chicken and shrimp. Tossing the salt and pepper shakers up in the air and catching them on top his chef’s hat. I go to the can and come back and he’s dropped down on my girls, playing Ring Around Tokyo Rosie. When he gives me the bill, I need an ambulance and an armored car. I just wish I could mellow out and have some smooth dreams again.
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Catfish McDaris’ most infamous chapbook is Prying with Jack Micheline and Charles Bukowski. His best reading was in Paris at the Shakespeare and Co. Bookstore. Catfish McDaris Mcdar3@aol.com
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Author:
Catfish McDaris
