| ZYGOTE IN MY COFFEE.COM |
| ***BIO*** KC Wilder: My writing is by turns folksy and surreal with a modern American pop-culture esthetic. I’ve been working my craft for nearly 2500 years. My writings address contemporary social and cultural issues, some are humorous and fanciful, some are spiritual, many are a mix of all the above.
I also play guitar in the San Francisco art rock / loungecore band known as Tawdry Hepburn (www.tawdryhepburn.net) - this band will be holding a record release party in January at a San Francisco location. |
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| © 2007 zygoteinmycoffee Ink. |
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| objects du’fart |
| by KC Wilder |
| all that parks a big fat bottom in this world . . . farts.
not just pimps and prostitutes but presidents also vee pees, puffed up CIOs, pull concentric flaps apart and evince farts. fuzzy-wuzzy doesn’t matter. stock boys in the toy stores know, teddy bears in back rooms . . . when alone they tend to fart. looking for a quick and easy way to torture prisoners, CIA interrogators try a new procedure. parked in front of prisoners, they peel down shorts and fart. shimmering scads of sequin clad mischief making beauty queens, strut before a contest judge, smile, crouch down low and fart. akhbar in a suicide belt, both eyes popping from his face. screaming, “death to infidels!” waving a kalishnakov, before he blows himself to bits he squeezes out a fart. farmers with their hangdog, middle-american faces starting rusty tractors in the early morning . . . fart. everyday, the FedEx man looking so intent. with electronic clipboard in his hand . . . see this dude in khaki shorts jump into his truck and fart. sometimes even goldfish fart. snails and crabs, small crustaceans, bilious bodies stuffed in shells (one can tell from all the teensy bubbles) these things fart. vladimir putin and bob newhart — these two frequently loudly fart. those who seem particularly patient at the bus stop, hands in pockets, coolly standing on the sidewalk — fart. i heard this from bono, the charismatic popstar from U-fart-2, the very next person you see is going to eventually approximate the faux demonic sound of field artillery, spiking high into the sky a large, unwieldly fart. |
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| Jan. 2007 |
| 77 |