Black snakes and funnel cakes
Black snakes start hissing and funnel cakes go clogging the body's multitude of passageways. Must be the popping sights and sounds of the Fourth of July.
Pathetic in reach, but funny all the more, the black snake nub climbs up and up and down again. Fizzing out with as much charge and length as a stick of chalk in 3 unit maths. Looks enough like a lolly that were it not for the sharp taste of danger, down the emergency room in quick step as the crawling spire sparks out to test the claim against travel insurance.
Ready, steady, sneak snakey
Listening to Shenandoah perform ahead of the midnighting fireworks at Somersport. Setting off little tanks that fall over from the fire in the back. Driving around town to buy some lethal gunpowder-charged "toys" from one week stands. All bookends and periphery to the real treat.
Funnel cake of doomed arteries
Disgusting in the sheer bravado of what lies ahead for the digestive and arterial tracks facing down a sugary plate of funnel cake. Essentially a naked plate of powdered sugar, deep-fried batter and an iron gut with gums to deflect plaque. The mind is always willing when the topic of food is at the serving bay.
Not much to crunch with the batter, the dough is soft and gives with each bite a smack of sugar to rub into the gum line. After the first fork, sticky in separation from the rest of the spewing flour, there's an instant hit of feeling full. Deceptive, this is batter, flour, the fattening stuff of the industrial nations.
Sickening, but delicious, the entire plate is gone with nary a want to know how it is that the stomach once more plays with as much peril as standing next to a bay of sparklers and shooter rockets.
Saturday, 5 July 2008
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Previous entries on Spiralling
- Sleeping short on United 840 to San Francisco
- Dropping mustard on United 839 - LAX to Sydney
- Falling between the week
- Thricewise to the nines
- Time travel turns summer to winter
- Sixteen hours to abandon silence
