15: Moonshine

a story blip starts with someone overstuffed with reduced items lugging these heavy bags which draw a lines tracks in the snow before tripping up on the paint-furrowed porch of a place where trees ring donut the house the oaks beside the soaks within hurling empty cans closed windows the oak's roots sneak through the underbelly the cellar as the can throwers stagger to the bathroom with tickled bladders and bowels permitting them their one special miracle one point it was noted that the baby growled the door but then babies crowded doors they stumbled through the friendly legs trying to avoid the future of dulling walks among the perceptive world so the back of the building is pressured into wines by icy gusts moving through walls splintered paneling pricks the finger of the giver of these gifts for controlling all against everyone where did this capricious little thing live out its life reliefs margins where lines coagulate into one without making a mark undated time balancing along the lip that sleeps tide almost touches so hmm yes hmm people want to believe it's my job to let them believe yeah you've got to push them a little though so i might even do something out of the ordinary and they can believe in the magic sit more things work say your three times or oh they love that works a treat stand on one leg with your thumb in your mouth turn yourself into a crow and squawk the weak into my ear anything works really as long as there's a drop of mystery or ritual to it they're willing to believe some people ask them in a few weeks time and see what they say well well wishes have a tendency to frighten easily when they do they will either take fright or change shape now you're on to something yeah the fox 2 is a shape-shifter we have an understanding if you know what i mean maybe you'd like a demonstration tell me what you wish for really and this this is a different movement now not the pounding on the feet and behind the eyes no limbs are at rest and yet the woods glide by and it seems a warmth propels me a warmth beyond and before and yet with its risings and fallings this stirring is new but there is something very old in it and i see it too a charcoal silver web of bombs like an avalanche of infected nests spinning from a burnt birch and there buried under that bristle i see my singed limbs twitch and the miraculously unsinged brush of my tails sweep about in the cool currents as we glide and those trunk like arms in the tattered red velvetine pressing this frail body in their vice grip to the vital bellows and this vial weaves reeking of pine sap moonshine as it expels and raspy triplets this feels now like my voice and i find it hilarious as i disappear between the white fur trim and my lapels into the downy man mosque screaming the joke as vertically as possible towards the night's white fiery eye the eye winks time to torture milk float it says time to burn down the sweet shop yes so we're getting some reports hinting that there's been some drunken abortion that has gone awry leading to a theft rumors appear to suggest that a fox sprite stole some golden from the local taoist trainees on the hill the shape-shifting fox sprite appears to have mesmerized the pupils more green around the gills uh triggering some sort of unbeaten lust according to some witnesses which was then tempered by the fox with large measures of liquor according to the uh the trainees themselves they were mesmerized by its wonderfully fluffy tail and stroking that soothe them off into a wonderful sleep which then enabled the fox to scamper off with two gourds with the vital essence which was tied together by a short length of rope held between its teeth there's been a polaroid placed in the armpit of one of one of the intoxicated devotees which is the sole trace of the culprit's visit here's the image here on the front of the paper this evening i'm sure if you visit some of the usual news outlets the picture will appear quite prominent there too ah