HER FAVORITE THINGS

She loved old vinyl albums and black and white movies made in the fifties, especially those thick, severely grooved jazz albums with covers in blaring, nervous fonts which showed white people with drinks in skewed living rooms laughing open-mawed like they were ready for a large cubes of a raw , bloody steak.,And for the films she adored, it was the old science fictions that had giant fucking spiders or actors covered in a congealed porridge with rubber eyeballs and sponge brains glued tot he exterior of the oatmeal and paste monster casing. There was a hero, square jawed, taking a blow torch to a frowny faced asparagus monster who lived in a Nevada cave across from a gas station and titty bar that dispatched bats and other vermin into the world of white America, and a woman, a pretty woman in a military issue brassiere, staying near the car, merely curious to see what kind of dance the asparagus beat and the fool with the blow torch would manage . But oh that jazz, honking, shreaking, a screaming set of tonalities having a multi-level fist fight speaker to speaker, filling the room with cries for more cowbell and box cutters.