Monday, June 14, 2010

The E-Coli Enterprise



The Mersey Goat Boys, stunned by witnessing their own innards, still walking, still blinking as the last of the sun dips over the sea...

"How much shouting can we do?" one of them yells, but the words are lost.

A collective sigh. A rising swell.

"How much-?"

The seablasts, the sundrains... Augie takes a turn at the mast, making a scene with his hands, trying to send a message out to the philosophers and caps on the shore, their little beads stuck to telescopes, their breath buckling against the salt and spray...

"Semaphore the life out of them," said Antony, himself already snuggling against a backdrip of insect chatter...

"Mandibles," corrects Augie...

"a Jazz musician without a trumpet..." comes the mumbled reply.

Grey Wolves - Shitlife