" You may do what ever you want to/with this:
“I thought you a stowaway.
I went to the shop and it felt wrong so I didn’t buy anything except 18 fresh fish. Sebastian tried to ask for a manager to explain the situation—that we’d pay for the fish (it would later become 19) and return in two hours to take them away. I just wanted to talk to the short woman in the apron. There were two British Columbians who asked for a Byzndi. Though Lauren explained that the eyes were supposed to look glossy, that it was safe, she was interrupted by an even shorter man who asked her, “Did you explain about the eyes?” Sebastian and I laid courtesy in to the Canadian couple, describing the large cookout that we were readying (lie) and suggesting the already-filleted wild salmon.
“oh, we’re so used to fresh fish.”
This was the way a person bought things. Monopolize the market. Pointing and saying, “all of them.”
Five minutes before we started, I picked up the fish. I removed their wax paper on the crowded 14th street walk. They were in a white opaque container. They looked like wet, fleshy jewelry—mercury injected eyes and rodent’s teeth.
———————
His stomach was slapped raw, while my effort was minimal. A slow VCF pulsing the short sample of fish-slapped lucite. 12 hz. 12 dead. 19 hz. 19 fish. A click, then a pulse, then a wave. Escalating till shuffling seeds became orbiting, eventually ejected or captured in our vitrine.
Love & guts,
Kool Raunch "
“I thought you a stowaway.
I went to the shop and it felt wrong so I didn’t buy anything except 18 fresh fish. Sebastian tried to ask for a manager to explain the situation—that we’d pay for the fish (it would later become 19) and return in two hours to take them away. I just wanted to talk to the short woman in the apron. There were two British Columbians who asked for a Byzndi. Though Lauren explained that the eyes were supposed to look glossy, that it was safe, she was interrupted by an even shorter man who asked her, “Did you explain about the eyes?” Sebastian and I laid courtesy in to the Canadian couple, describing the large cookout that we were readying (lie) and suggesting the already-filleted wild salmon.
“oh, we’re so used to fresh fish.”
This was the way a person bought things. Monopolize the market. Pointing and saying, “all of them.”
Five minutes before we started, I picked up the fish. I removed their wax paper on the crowded 14th street walk. They were in a white opaque container. They looked like wet, fleshy jewelry—mercury injected eyes and rodent’s teeth.
———————
His stomach was slapped raw, while my effort was minimal. A slow VCF pulsing the short sample of fish-slapped lucite. 12 hz. 12 dead. 19 hz. 19 fish. A click, then a pulse, then a wave. Escalating till shuffling seeds became orbiting, eventually ejected or captured in our vitrine.
Love & guts,
Kool Raunch "
