Tuesday, November 29, 2011


For a very long time now Houdini has been standing
behind the trellis door of his cage with a perplexed look
on his face. What is burlesque and why will I be one day credited
for inventing it?

First, I must be a sloth in time-lapse: jerkily transcribed and
arrested in roadkill draw by number. In Pixar's timeless, inimitable format,
my initiation in a parkour tribal ritual. Injected with black hole resin,
the culture of a random venereal disease, a gallon of Vaseline,
ten thousand silicone nano-sticks extracted from my own
nipples, and then finally spewed out the other side [of this door]
in a mass of amorphous goo.

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