issue55getradiation

                                                    ZYGOTE IN MY COFFEE.COM

***BIO*** Willie Smith Willie Smith is deeply ashamed of being human. His work celebrates this horror. His novella SUBMACHINEGUN CONSCIOUSNESS can be read at http://semantikon.com . Novel OEDIPUS CADET available from Black Heron Press. Chapbook GO AHEAD SPIT ON ME too hard to find anyway. He recommends "Spider Fuck" archived at http://corpse.org . Also salivates a regular column at THE LAMPSHADE http://ls.thewritepath.org .

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GET RADIATION

by Willie Smith

   Way up in the high end of the spectrum I was emitting Get-rays. Because I needed to get layed. Although nobody seemed to be getting it; getting it right, getting it on.
     I walked like a pelvic radar dish. Broadcast wishes in electromagnetic fishnet for the perfect dish. Went bats swishing past ungettable targets.
     One dusk – on the edge of town where I thought it safe to hang – I waved Get-rays so hard as to knock a prophylactic factory flat.
     I was emitting Get-rays from the gut, from the butt, from the wing nut.
     No wonder people began to wonder when everybody around got cancer.
     I noticed myself a new growth. Wild uncontrollable pockets to get my hands on everything. Seems through playing with my brain lust had weaseled into turn your pockets out gimme all ya got.
     I got this great job high in a bank tower. Phone lines through the Market clear to the Oval. I was cleansing every trace of humanity off every last dime in the universe. Get-rays making the planet a sterile place to get rich.
     And still I couldn’t get layed.
     Oh, I’d irradiate brothels. Debase the Mustang Ranch into dobbin burger barbecue smorgasbord lymphoma. Fleece all Thailand of escorts. Turn a nunnery into a malignant ant hill of in-and-out.
     But never strike motherlode. Never get my choice of a choice and/orgasm in the chasm of the hole I useta call my soul.
     I admit love too complex to hold up under Get-rays. I’d go for just a few fast particles. A single quark of care. Even one lousy monopole of give a shit.
     But I gotta instead get these Get-rays up. Focus on the guy in the Oval to get the Market not to forget to keep to climb.
     I gotta get my rays up on the moon. Raise Cain all over Mars. Be the first to mar Pluto with a lusty bootprint. Because we are going to the stars. Because the race is – get it? – cancer.

Dec. 2005