Skullcrack City

by Jeremy Robert Johnson

Those fucking drums, popping, exploding, insisting on their place at the center of your skull.

She says language is a reflection of order from the chaos of thought.”

Picture a naked man coated in lard and trying to pull himself up a black silk rope. Now imagine that man has had all of his arm muscles replaced with pudding. And then cut off his lard-laced hands and grease the bloody stumps. Now you’ve arrived, metaphorically at least, at the idea of Dr. Shinori’s English skills. (Which, still, by far, trumped my Japanese language skills, but that’s beside the point.)