crouching in my space
(an abandoned lot that used to be an Elks Lodge but has now done a sixteen year uninterrupted tour as an illegal dumping ground)
I’m issuing orders and prophecies
mostly
I’m using my gift to prophecy pizzas without paying for ‘em
cheeseburgers, donuts, wine, steaks, hot dogs now and again even though I’m kinda over hot dogs at this point
bring ‘em all right to my space
‘cause I put a voice into some heads that says so
it’s pretty awesome
my buddy
he’s the one that gets off on fomenting wars and bogus end-of-the-world announcements
I don’t approve
but he’s my buddy from way back
all the way from the back of my brain, first memories of loneliness relieved
but yeah
I also get lumped in with him
(likely ‘cause he operates from the back of the dumping ground)
like
I get blame/praise for being a voice of apocalypse
but that’s nothing to do with me
and as far as I know
my buddy doesn’t get any of my pizza action
which I think has to do
with people not able to perceive any sort of human enjoyment of things within an apocalypse pushing god so, of course, my buddy gets no treats, no snacks, no breaks
but I don’t know that for sure
plenty of pizza delivery people
tell me when they bring my pizzas
that they thought a mutant martial arts turtle guy was gonna be waitin’ for ‘em
or that a seductive woman would manifest to lead them into an extradimensional meat processor like that movie where Scarlett Johansson drives around in a rental van
or that they’re walking into an aboveground vampire rave
something like that
and then they might say
that they’re ready for apocalypse
their jobs suck
can’t afford food/rent/doctor/baby/weed/alcohol/tobacco
they got that student debt albatross around their neck
some are in miserable relationships
still others are pessimistic about Climate Inferno and the year round heat dome
a fair few think apocalypse will be like a movie or a video game, a total vibe, why not let it rip
I try to tell ‘em that’s a different being
that they want to talk to my buddy
I try to re-direct them to the back of the dumping ground
and a lot of ‘em get pissed off, start shouting
or lapse into menacing silence,
or they start shooting me with a gun, start shouting
or they have a complete psychological meltdown, start shouting
this one guy told me to go fuck myself, that I was a big phony, and that he-the pizza guy-was the true apocalypse god, and how he was gonna kick my ass, and tear down the world, and later I saw him on the news ‘cause he beat up fifteen out-of-shape cops while burning down a dying mall, and a whole parade of bogus authorities like the President and a police spokesman and all these asinine cable news pundits blamed “Wokeness,” and one reporter said it all had something to do with PCP,
and I’m thinkin’
yeah
I bet it was the PCP
that stuff’s no joke
but I don’t want to worry you
because you should know
I can’t be harmed
so far as I’ve experienced people’s frustrations and flailings
maybe if someone hit me with a nuke
but some pizza guy isn’t likely to get access to atomics,
hard to save up in a job like that,
you’re on a damn hamster wheel in a job like that,
but even if he did
I don’t think it would matter
I’m not that kind of god
my buddy and I have that in common
neither of us are the kinda gods you can kill
so far as I know
I get a lotta people telling me that All is God
that since God is everything
It must also be everyone
and we’re all just make believe creatures bouncing off each other inside God’s mind
and I think
sounds like real PCP talk
but no, I could see that
even if it doesn’t jibe with my own background
which is basically this
I come from this
what would you call it
it’s like the ultimate mouth full of hot dogs
but that’s an oversimplification
but, yeah, it’s like the ultimate mouth full of hot dogs
like if all the people
at all the hot dog eating contests
across all realities
merged
into a singular entity
or maybe it was like they decided
if such things are capable of making a decision
to have like a main spokesbeing or brand ambassador or lifestyle emissary
that would be me
it’s hard to put it in terms which people like yourself find satisfactory
and I apologize for that
I don’t mean to be difficult
but maybe some of you out there can relate
like
did you choose to be a pizza delivery guy
or did circumstances carry you along towards such an end
‘cause pizza delivery guys are needed
I certainly appreciate you
but it’s no kinda dream job in the usual sense
and, well, the mouths full of hot dogs needed some kind of voice
hard to talk around all those hot dogs, right
so they manifested me
but mouths full of hot dogs
get caught up in things
so they don’t ask much of me
so I crouch in my place
keep myself fed
or rather
I habitually observe the forms of feeding
I don’t actually for real eat
don’t need to
but I like the hurlyburly of food coming my way, the uniformed professionalism of delivery staff, the vibes I trigger by crouching in my place among the commercial wastescape of bygone American retail ambitions,
lotsa video content people show up ‘cause word spread about how haunted this place feels even if it doesn’t look like much on-camera,
how,
like,
a mile from me
they built this thing called a Museum of Commerce-this one dude who used to work there in the gift shop told me this as he made a very professional pitch about why I should smite the world with billions of rhinoceros sized rats-that’s filled with what looks like this fake set of a once prosperous downtown business district that originally resembled some self-soothing fantasy of Midcentury but has been gradually renovated into this tacky-ass evocation of a bogus Millennium, and, yeah, I kinda want to meet the off-kilter god of that whole jerk-off if it even exists
we could have a real battle of the gods
God of the Illegal Dumping Ground vs God of the Jerkoff Potemkin Museum of Commerce
but that’s just me getting into my anger
I’m not much of a fighter
I’ll cool down soon enough
so yeah
I just crouch in my place
stay “fed”
think about things
try to run it all down
figure things out
lately
I think of myself much more as the God of the Illegal Dumping Ground
more than I think of myself as the God of the Mouth Full of Hot Dogs
because
and I hate to admit this
but I don’t understand what the Mouth Full of Hot Dogs is even saying
I used to, like, freestyle interpret what I thought it was saying
but that led to so many surreal outcomes
like the Jerkoff Potemkin Museum of Congress
that was my fault I’m pretty sure
and my buddy, the God of Apocalypse
who’s really more like a God of Disgruntled Apocalypse Payback Fantasias
yeah, I’m pretty sure I dreamed him up so I could fob people off of my cute ass
but that’s another damn mouthful
but
uh
my efforts to interpret the grunts and chomps and choking noises of the Mouth Full of Hot Dogs have only increased the chaos of this world
which doesn’t seem great
keeps me in pizza
but the downside’s steep
-May 2025-October 2025
