Fever Dream Zine

.Tough crowd it is.

Lift your scrawny hands in the air.

Don’t let them die of boredom.

Crawling down the webs of the miniature gnomes by the post office and you already forgot to put on your shoes. It does not work like that.

If you kneel down to the petal box, you can slip by stepping on the little nickel coins and experience the grandeur of a televised talent.

Oh, lamentable chance. The golden scarf swiftly takes a left turn. Windy roads are ahead when the door opens. Stinky laboratories are rowdy and up for the party of the year. It’s time for lift off, Major Marjorie. The Baudelaire extraction of the

blackhead on your sinus is set for tomorrow evening and the courier is ready to pick up your parcel. For further information, please contact the Sinusitis Organisation against the lampshade crusade.

Walking by that unruly dancehall, brimming with all the disorderly punks and their Mickey Mouse haircuts, makes me want to hurl. I didn’t grow

up a cow, so that you all could dance to this monstrosity. It is high time to let yourself out.

Pick up your dance shoes off the floor and cross the road safely.

Look right and left and right.

Who knows when the big cheese truck is coming? Once you let it smash you, not even the canopy can cover the gory details.

I read the news today; someone important is coming to town. The big rat is meant to arrive at the airport next week with a new blender gifted by the monarch of Luftbagel. Bright November eyes with a tiny tinted speck of crayon blue in a sea full of panini creams and browns. They don’t make them like this anymore.

Are they for sale?

In the land of illusion and misconception, where clouds are no longer speckled, the lively cadaver should be able to feel the mohair fuzziness of the fever dream any time now.

The details are in the running, the handmade brown and golden soil that is to be lost forevermore in the deep ends of a creation that never made it into the future.

It is but a figment and a snore of a lovely, yet ugly place.

Enjoy while it lasts, or time will find you and violently grab your precious bliss.

olated p a r t x e d n a That long fit around ly b i s s o p d neck coul f bright o s n e z o d a dozen of r eyesight u o Y ! s t o r r orange ca e roof, h t h g u o r h must be t enium. r e u l G s e d King Sha ses new glas d n a r b These ltshop’s a m e h t t I found a just right e b t s u m giftshop for you.

Sandy flocks of sheep are following.

They are about to enter the newly renovated school premises. The investing groups of customers have contributed to the addition of towering, dull and grey gates at the perimeter of the establishment.

No permission to enter, nor exit.

Be that as it may, an establishment as such is not very sanitary for the dear flocks of sheep. The

dominating mothball vibe does not pass the test.

Why not go to the mall, then?

With notes of parsley and bunny bean bags, I can only discover your marinated and well-kept big three signs.

Taurus sun, Gemini Rising, Capricorn Moon.

Hit the cowbell with your cowhide boots. No time to lose when you carry your cheese melt.

The pilgrim can go back to the house of madness.

Meanwhile, a twisted tail and a thousand eyes are staring right through you, Grandpa Simpson. They know what the future has in hold for you. It’s featured in the recently leaked episode.

EXCUSE THE MISUNDERSTANDING. I’VE HAD TOO MUCH TO SEE. The system is calling.

Time to look the other way. Put the goggles back on.

May you all have a blessed and prosperous week rolling down the ‘Nam rivers.

‘And in case I don’t see ya, good afternoon, good evening and good night’.