The Shape of This Trick

The shape of this trick retains its fleshy sweet mustiness like an egg hard boiled and stained on the inside by dies and vinegar. And the lord of spurs and spandex, broken horse of the Spanish west spoke as a cinematic deity, “The one who carries the satchel, the plastic grocery bag with goat weed pills, which layeth on the ground throughout the night will feel the sting of the scorpion on his side in the morning. Must I detail all I require?”

Then the bulbous flesh was stung and stained.

He had an awareness of things he ought not be doing but lacked the clarity of mind to identify such actions and had been doing the things all along. His convoluted perception of the contrail snake streaking over was like invention of plumed serpent god and he was fresh with concrete calluses and damp underwear. Four Mexicans squeeze into the cab of a small pickup nearby, wearing sunglasses and blaring a fast trio song of accordion, snare and brass.

The traffic was light picking Guadalupe from the rest. She stepped in his car with her squat legs, bruised at the knees and inside her thighs. They spoke of their day. It was Mother’s Day.

Then the bulbous flesh was stung and stained.


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