| this is oh so blue A MAGAZINE OF FICTION, POETRY & MORE! |
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| ZYGOTE IN MY COFFEE.COM |
| ISSUE #39 $O.OO |
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| May 2005 |
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| ZYGOTE IN MY COFFEE.COM |
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| The fucking Desert |
| by Debbie Kirk |
| so, I was driving my van thru the desert
no fucking AC, right? no fucking sense and those were some beaten down bass low times i was a traveler never a tourist but the tourists rest stops were statistically more dangerous because of travelers like me, the traveler I was in that van with no fucking AC I walked right into Mel’s Diner and cried to Flo that “the wind was blowing my van all over the road and I thought my tires were bad and the heat the heat oh god the heat” she finally just put away her notebook and brought me a beer I had tons and tons of questions for Flo Scientific questions, weather related questions, geographical questions, mechanical questions, questions about the best way to bury a body… but I just wanted her to validate my meter for one more day just to shake me and tell me “you’re not gonna die right this moment, you little pussy.” cause I had the “bitchin party van” with a kickass top o the line sound system which was later stolen out of my hearse ironically, in the snow. I stripped down to my bikini top gulping very warm water as it wouldn’t even stay cold from one rest stop to the next and I listened to Johnny Cash so fucking loud that I quite possibly directly contributed to the dehydration of those around me those tourists the bikini top and shorts weren’t cutting it I took off my stained wife beater filled it with ice and tied it around my head. rolling thru the desert tattooed hung over eyes and lips making quite a spectacle out of myself really and it was hot I saw fucking visions I saw those one of those cartoon mirage’s of a island paradise I could see the ice evaporating I drove all night I drove all day either way it was fucking unbearable but I did it and the whole goddamn time I was wearing this wife beater around my head tattoos blended into a skull and crossbones bikini and I was singing “ Jackson” like a maniac and to this day I can’t listen to Cash without getting thirsty for some moon shine |
| ***BIO*** Debbie Kirk is a 30 year old writer who isn't from anywhere and lives in the sewers. She writes stuff...and it must be O.K. because it has aquired her some stalkers. She dosen't want to grow up to be anything. She passed out last weekend in her friend Kristi's tub after a night of drinking. The last thing she said was: "I'm not going out like Bon Scott man, not yet." Checkout Debbies' website at: www.debbiedkirk.com |