BRATTY BRATWURSTS

Bratty bratwursts refused to get in their buns. They flipped the cook the bird, blew him a raspberry, and rolled off down the street. They stopped at a street corner and put on shades and lit cigarettes and started harmonising in the most gorgeous tender voices you ever heard. I watched from my apartment window and thought about the young dreams I had munched each Oktoberfest.

UNREPENTANT CROWS

Unrepentant crows peck out the eyes of everybody they fly past, spitting them on the ground, leaving a grisly trail of eyeballs that stretches for miles. Quick dogs follow the trail, gulping the eyeballs with such fervour that they promptly vomit them up, and so what was once a miles long trail of eyeballs becomes a series of piles of eyeball filled vomit every few hundred metres. One eyed victims stumble and scream and try not to stand in piles of their own eyes.

IN THE SHADE OF THE APPLE TREE

In the shade of the apple tree I ate a pear. The apple tree was so offended by this breach of etiquette that it reached it's branch down and slapped the pear out of my hand. "What am I, chopped liver?" it said. "No, apple tree", I replied, "You are simply the bearer of the most blasé of fruits, the vanilla of the fruit world." Suddenly I was swarmed by flying vanilla pods. They tore at my flesh and gouged at my eyes. And rightly so. Vanilla is a bold and unique taste that should never be direspected with assosciations of blanditude.

OH WHAT A LONELY NIGHT

Oh what a lonely night up here on the moon. I have had no visits from little green men, I have had no space explorers drift past and give me the thumbs up, I have had no giant babies floating above me, I have had no moon dust take the shape of a beautiful woman, I have had no robots who seem so amazingly empathic and human, I have had no space fungus that beams thoughts to me and makes my brain throb. I am truly alone with myself on this cold dark rock on this long lonely night.

I SQUEEZED THE COW'S TEAT

I squeezed the cow's teat and black milk came out. I'd never squeezed a cow's teat before, and I thought maybe if you squeezed it one way the milk came out white, and if you squeezed it another it came out black. I squeezed a whole bunch of different ways, I massaged, I jiggled, I coaxed, I grabbled, but still that milk came out black as squid ink. I took a sip and it tasted like milk, but just from that one sip I could feel the black goth milk changing my DNA. I knew the words to entire Sisters Of Mercy albums I'd never even heard.

MY FLAMING HEART

My flaming heart provides light and heat for the whole neighbourhood. Local families come to cook rabbits they have caught in the forest, drunks who cannot find their lighter seek me out and put their marlboros right into my chest, elders and and youngsters gather together around my flickering flames to tell their stories. I must be kept alight no matter how much a constantly flaming heart threatens the collapse of all my other organs, so yon I go to sally forth into another dangerous adventure of the heart.

AND IT WAS THE NIGHT TIME

It was the night time, I was hanging out with mummy and her friend and it was the night time, we listened to music through the speaker and it was the night time, I drank strawberry milk and it was the night time, I saw an owl in the tree and it was the night time, I saw it hoot and it's eye glint and it was the night time, I feelt the warm wind and saw the stars sparkle and it was the night time, I felt the mouisture of the grass between my fingers and it was the night time, I felt those night time feelings because it was the night time.