| this is oh so blue A MAGAZINE OF FICTION, POETRY & MORE! |
| black |
| this is black shadow |
| ZYGOTE IN MY COFFEE.COM |
| ISSUE #34 $O.OO |
 |
 |
| March 2005 |
| ___________ |
| ZYGOTE IN MY COFFEE.COM |
| ***BIO*** Dennis Mahagin's first book of poems, entitled "Grand Mal", is forthcoming from Suspect Thoughts Press. His work appears on the Web in such publications as Absinthe Literary Review, Edifice Wrecked, 42opus, Underground Voices, FRiGG, and 3 A.M. He lives and works in Washington State. |
|
 |
| © 2005 zygoteinmycoffee Ink. |
| Home |
| Submit |
| A POX ON THE HOUSE OF HVAC |
| by Dennis Mahagin |
| If you were to ask me why I take such
good care of myself anymore it's because I can't help but believe everyone should live at least long enough to see the sudden scalding starburst of seagull shit when it hits a disagreeable pimp smack on his gold-chained clavicle right before he madly shrieks at a lamp-post-locked whore from his dwindling stable, and runs the ragtop Allante into a blue steel news stand at Rich's Cigar Store on the corner of 1Oth and Alder in downtown Portland, or a while later-- in back of the Galleria, with the fog showing no signs of burning off and the Jackie-O-looking businesswoman has an unbreakable wrist-lock on the skinhead crankster wannabe purse snatcher-- and she flings him face-first into a parking meter like a pot bellied pro wrestler hitting the pinata-soft purple turnbuckle. *** Sometimes though, it's even more fun to fake out the fedora-wearing homeboys on the Vegas Strip who press reticent tourist palms with those glossy girly placards on every fucking corner-- so I'll act like I'm all ready to accept one-- only to pull my hand away at the very last possible second, and as long as we're on the subject of Sin City were you aware that the most cold-blooded men in that most notorious town--and perhaps the whole desert Southwest-- are not the mobbed-up pit bosses, crooked strip club owners or Hispanic gang bangers with teardrop tattoos, but in fact Air Conditioning Repair Technicians? It's true, and I say before even one more pale gray and panting pensioner is held hostage in his hundred degree efficiency condominium by one of their obscenely-inflated work order estimates, we ought to round up the whole mercenary network of greasy Ali Baba thieves, and lock them away at least for the Summer in Jolly Joe Arpaio's tent city Phoenix prison... *** But meanwhile, you'll have to excuse me since I simply must get back to my steady, heady mail truck vigil by the big bay window in the kitchen-- watching and waiting for my Marisa Tomei soft core porn tape she's made exclusively for me to arrive wrapped in some Valentine-red crepe paper adorned with her lilac-scented letterhead which of course aint hardly gonna happen, but you'd be surprised how just thinking about these things has seen me through some kind of sorrow and misery in this life like you wouldn't even want to imagine. |