Tuesday, April 8, 2014

The band takes the stage
machine guns for guitars, plugged into Marshall stacks just the same
the first number begins
the lead points his ax straight into the crowd
bullets barking into the first few rows
heads, shoulders, arms, shredded and exploding in ragged meaty chunks
viscera and bone showering those behind them

corpses fall apart like pinatas
a severed head is batted aloft like a weighted balloon
an armless girl, blood pouring from boney stumps, crowdsurfs above the carnage, a beatific smile on her face

the bassist pumps out a steady pulse of buckshot
exploding eyes and teeth, pockmarking faces and severing fingers
bouncers dressed in riot gear and teflon police the stage
roadies wearing bullet proof vests hang in the wings, darting out to supply fresh clips for reloads between songs

the audience howls in pain and elation
the audience, what's left of it, cannot get enough
soon, kids are flinging audience remains at the singer
intestines, a liver, stomach chunks, half an arm
shower the stage like bloody underwear

the drummer raises a stick and headshots a boy on the balcony, taking his head clean off
the headless body jetting blood wobbles momentarily, then falls on two stoned kids behind the soundboard


within minutes, the tastemakers and blogosphere are united in their praise
"extraordinary" "restores danger to rock and roll" "the kids are most definitely not alright"
"a new benchmark in authenticity" "make mine a Mai Lai!" are but a few of the hosannas
the entire staff of Pitchfork commits mass suicide in a show of support
shootings at rock clubs and music stores become the new thing
in urban areas, firefights between hipsters and hip hop fans become commonplace
Iggy Pop is assassinated while being inducted to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame
the NRA becomes the most popular sponsor of tours and creates its own record label
Glock and U2 sign a multi-album contract and co-develop a new line of riot guns






3 comments:

Agent Polsky said...

Really, I was like, this reminds me of dross, but then when you got to the entire staff of Pitchfork committing suicide in solidarity, suddenly, I laughed.

Agent Polsky said...

The NRA? Really? You had to go political. Words don't look right to me now. Political. Politicol. Politicalifornia.

peppergomez said...

Well the NRA would LOVE to have rock and roll and youth culture embrace it, for marketing/profits/demographics/PR purposes.

Pitchfork committing collective suicide would make me grin from ear to ear.