Voices on the Wind Comical Voices
Party Menu, part two by Mark Vogel When nightmare slugs appear by the thousands on chocolate cake So early in the morning for blood dripping from a cut finger begging to be licked as despair builds, saying just devour slugs/slurp first with a tongue, know only decay as a game after seeing on the table all going to hell the chocolate cake no longer fresh/ birthday surprise white coconut icing already grown tough. Later, like a plan, dynamite surprise fractures the air Still like a machine, moving is better than inertia while zipping on bright highway 321/eating crumbling country ham biscuits as mountain fog collects in Blowing Rock. Then down the curves until a dynamite blast shakes the car/spills coffee/ warms the chocolate cream lap the same moment the radio on cue belches colorless chaos— alien static saying enough. Analyzing earthy worm soup—the persistent need to refresh Two hours with the overdressed committee with frozen smiles, then released again in hissing highway logic beaten linear/dreaming a meal wiggling two pound thick. Divine instructions with clarity from up high: puncture the worms until they are ooze, then crumble dried butterfly wings like thin pastry over half-alive liquid. Bon appetite, moving and moving.