It’s Kind of Like This
written by: Ken Tomaro
Music is distorted, like it was cut in half,
a saxophone becomes violin, drumbeats are
backward, lyrics are inhaled when sung. A
sound pops in the background, and the car
door slams, and slams, and slams, and slams,
and slams. A conversation heard from an
apartment two down from you and one floor
up. Scratching your head but it’s not your
head, it’s a clown’s head in black and white.
It’s having a flashlight in your brain.
Everything is tits, hallucinations of tits. It’s
looking at a patch of sienna float across the
wall and seeing a memory from childhood. I
read a two-sentence note and it took a half an
hour. It’s exhaling and melting into a soft pile.
It used to be the palsy. You were physically
the second hand of a clock. Now it’s seeing
sixteen faces, one right after the other in a
painting on the wall. Another painting is
monsters, elephants, and tits. Dog faces, trees
and tits, tits and trees. Seeing a sound. Long
noses and drooping faces. A Labradoodle
doing tricks. It’s turning your head to the left
or right, and it keeps turning like an owl’s. It’s
put the pen down and just enjoy it without
having to write about it. It’s your head
twisting like a rag being rung out. It’s a guitar
solo played in a stick of butter. It’s retrograde
fucking things up but it’s not really fucking
things up, it’s resetting what needs to be reset.
It’s you ripping that guitar solo, drum solo,
head bang, getting the vocals to match your
face. Music becomes indecipherable, 1995
comic book animation. Clutch, ripping the
shit out of it. The ringing in your ears
becomes a Keebler elf.
- It’s Kind of Like This - March 24, 2025
