get in the booth -

punch in the number

when they pick up

don't say a word

just listen

shout at the double

from the damned from

a dry throat

dry eye chuckle

insistent / elastic (but never plastic)

thick / butt jump pierced by

the kids

sweet angel voice sinister

(what are they thinking)

guitars sliced with scribble

graffiti sprawled across the hemispheres;  stuttered, stunted, dual-mono machine dreams flashing sudden stereophobic and back again / two screens alone together

squeezing shaking oozing metallic pool like brain blood,

slowly draining away all mental life.

shaking ass / nihility at most corrodes

candy's gone no more

fun