Barbigerous gents push past doubledoors – there’s straight bits and the dual

parabola, and solid surface of it, transparent face, lungs that wingspread, now air,
recede into lips which touch tongues and kiss clicking, but not stopped, now air,
saloondooring back from that screwedown finishline – closing then with a solemn
gulp.

Ahead : a dark liminal of a 50s diner : melamine : linoleum : strangely idyllic :

Daniel Johnston’s Chock’lit Shoppe : blackgreen neon : galagaudy : evil brings
men together:

They wear T-shirts with words the wearers have not read today but the others
have. And there is a man named Stephen Michael Matthew or Samuel among
them. And they are stood in sport shoes that have lines connecting from the soft
lips of the footwears gawping maw. And pulling down diagonal as though going
within the sole in the direction of the toes. Or Smyrniotis or Murgatroyd or . . . .
And the thick lines are sawtoothed perhaps for speed like a flame decal. And the
colours are green blue black and the shoes have white skin. And these lines are
like arms which go into pockets tween side and sole. ¶But that said, the hole for
a socked foot is the mouth, it should be remembered, and the eyelets are the eyes,
each shoe is either a bug or a spider, and the stripes, that were previously called
arms, are two parts of a moustache lifting up in his surprise, because what is called
the tongue of the shoe comes out from the roof of the mouth, because some giant
has gone in their mouth like a large leach entering yours, and is doing something
horrific with lace to her eyes. ¶Cuz curves are the couture; flesh the finest fashion.

The men are moseying on the spot and gabbering in deceleration since stopping
here, while searching and scanning, fossicking the elements of the room,
preternatural shining and ricochets of metal or mirror, its details, for jokes,
comments, combobulation, curves, memetic cells, ferric alloys and obvious
polymers.

A heady concatenation of hideous shite does hits the eye like a vicious bulb but
is here distilled by a flinching mind recovered napkinholders reflect in curves
made cheap yellow ewy barstools Googie all (With technology – ) slightly
corrugated steel 3.5 inches tall and horizontally stretching bold as an American
firemen red as frame for lightly dirtyspeckled wall of mirror (the animate shall
become inanimate – ) on the right booths below snaking at the back then theydies
and gentlethem toilettes kitchendoor with porthole on back of left and rounded
large loungebar abandoned but oversupplied on a lot of the left. (and the
inanimate shall become incarnate.)
However, on the absolute left, there’s a recess, fuliginous, and, of 2 metre’s depth,
there, a tilted tessen of ascending steps, upon, placing these people now
perpendicular to their previous platform.

Bowling.

Light. Black weight on planch. Sound.

The ball hitting floor. is. And rolling. a. But failing. knell.

And so – they’re gulping in the gullet of the gutter.