top of page

Being God's Personal Disco Ball 🪞 C. Morgenrede

ushered to your cushion, lap

buttered up and down, coaster

soda bubblin’, tummy rumblin’,

lights dim and the previews start;

 

alpine ice-o-matic machine, bain marie filled with

scalding water; slices of mortadella and caramelized banana,

letting your friends and family kill innocent civilians;

general butt naked and his journey towards self-improvement;

call me old school, but I say we keep people in check, not under a boot;

 

scratched up radiohead CD,

focusing while listening to ELO;

requesting a day off for some quality

boom-shacka-lacka-lacka-boom time;

“wait, is john travolta in this movie?”

“yeah, that’s him, but…hey, who took my pimp cup?”

 

little boy holding a sack of bread

happily skipping towards a small pond

filled with ducklings of all shapes and sizes;

 

duck 1: “oh brother, not this asshole again”

duck 2: “god, I hate this kid so much”

duck 1: “remember when he threw the bread

at us and then screamed really loud”

duck 3: “what should we do, fellas”

duck 1: “his mom is pretty far away,

         i say we ambush the kid”

duck 2: “yeah, let’s steal his bread too”

duck 3: “y’all need me to shit on him”

duck 1: “oh yes, absolutely”

duck 2: “let’s gank this punk mother fucker”

 

going to blockbuster to rent Orgazmo

so you can watch it with your friend James;

covering your pointer finger with

spit and then sticking it up into the air

to see which way the wind is blowin’;

 

you looked at me with a face flushed of life,

a wretched man in the same situation as me,

isolated and disgraced, mind fully altered,

I don’t remember your name, or the

names of the others, it was all just

rapid decline, coming off the seams,

of being hesitant to seek out spotlights;

 

Pioneer (Gottlieb, 1976):

-   send ball into play using first long blue line down, go for C

-   nudge if ball is bouncing on rubbers above bicentennial drop targets,

-   dig hard as fuck if ball is sent towards center drain, catch the tip

 

Morgenrede lives in Memphis but will probably die in Arkansas.

 

“why are those trees not changing their leaves to fall colors”

because those trees take a lil’ longer to get their colors to change

“why don’t they just change their colors faster or something”

I don’t know, bcuz God made it that way, shut up dude

 

feeling fate watching the sunrise,

i set explosive charges behind my vitals

and gave out multiple detonators

to the people I love more than life,

 

background hauntology,

memories of res publica,

traces of unshared spaces,

quiet morning breakfast,

going home early after school

inputting code 007 373 5963

 

prairie farms and white cheddar shells;

gored and bored, love no more,

feeding one’s own desire and regret;

 

I only let people inject needles into my arm if I get animal crackers afterwards, that’s why I like

giving blood, they always make sure you get your animal crackers, so you can get your blood

sugar up, but if I don’t get my am-cracks, then I get real upset and cranky, I think that’s why I’ve

never injected heroin, you never see those folks eating animal crackers after they shoot up;

nobody home, porn on the Bluetooth speaker; 

full disclosure: my nature is non-disclosure, agreed?


🪩 C. Morgenrede lives in Tennessee. When he’s not playing pinball he’s typing out prose in his notes app. His most recent project, ABUSER, is available at Pig Roast Publishing.

Komentáře


bottom of page