“I want to prove that Los Angeles is a practical joke played upon us by superior beings of a humorous planet.” 

BOB KAUFMAN

it’s tough to be fat in la la land

at manhattan beach

tens of obese men and women

swim in black water

upon seeing them

anorectic children

wearing transparent swimming suits

ran away terrified

crushing sea snake’s skulls on their way

as a response

a dead fat woman with rotting eyes

appeared on stage

in one quick jerk

her decomposing hands

twisted a living sea snake inside out

its organs died on the spot

other dead female spectators

ululated

& danced

out of joy

like naked witches in heat

jumping wildly

on the snake’s organs

thuds

woke up half-buried zombie-infants

calling upon fallen saints or black angels

to resurrect all unburied spectators

at manhattan beach

the black angels turned american graveyards into schools

the suburbs into deserts

burying all our emotions into the scorched californian mountains

burning vegetarians and vegans en passant

before they swallowed them up alive

but murmurings

echoing from LA’s telepathic tunnels of sound

challenged the zombie-infants’ fermented prophets

tireless waiters shouted heil hitler when that happened

serving platters of female semen  

perhaps the time to puke has come

my dear friend

i know you wanted to do that for a while now

go ahead

& puke out your own zombie bile

the half-buried zombie-infants are dancing skeletons now  

decomposed

like the floating fat men and women

sea salt swallowed them up

i tried to convince you earlier

not to sell your liver

but the underground vultures of la la land

seduced you

& now you play with your bowels and brain

mental vomit is a delicacy here

sold on ships

in shopping malls

& in sex shops

this vomit

is brewed from the juices of dead female spectators

who wanted to dance like living sea snakes

but begged the moon to munch on their limps instead 

did you know

some little girls on acid were spotted

at LA’s grand central market

holding hands with corpulent dead women 

begging the moon to devour them as well

just think of my sadness

when i tried to look away

but my face was lost

& my tears where shaking in whiskey

i protected myself

by eating up my eyes

talking gibberish

thinking it’s better than small-talk

drinking up vowels of voracity

coughing up consonants of contradiction

while my eyes decomposed

just like the dead fat men and women

spitted out on manhattan beach

running wild towards the nearest pharmacies

crushing sea snakes’ organs on their way

& i recalled that

it’s tough to be fat in la la land

while god’s guffaw echoes

when he designs los angeles

as a practical joke

played upon obese

southern californians