by Elizabeth Mourant
Yankee Snuff. Than Hollywood Snuff. The guy that had been
on Howard Stern for his delicate recordings of slight atmospheric
patterns and ozone cracks, leaks, and creases saying "off
the record: I like to take women apart to put them back
were three of these particular shadows. Not snow angels...they
will not have scene of the crime silhouettes and yellow
police tape. They are not silhouettes. They are clandestine
recordings of a group in Columbia called "Farq"
so similar to our Yankee "Fuck." But was it the
left wing guerillas or the right wing paramilitary groups.
What if the truth is as close as the word Fuck, three letters
away (Buy a Vowel)...
9mm weaponry that blew the three intelligent Yankee peaceniks
away. Three like the Magi. Ingrid, Terry, and Gay. 8mm is
released in the United States. Three leaf clovers are more
common. Three, two women and one man like "Three's
Company" only the women were mature 39, 41, and the
man was a 24 year old boy. They were bound, tortured, they'd
been kidnapped and the group that took their lives added
just one millimeter to the equation.
Filming fake blood capsules, a woman's visceral screams,
vile violent rape. Chicanery. Leonard Nimoy's "In Search
of: The Snuff Movie."
The three were dragged with seed bags over their heads across
the border from the U'wa tribal lands they'd been rallying
for against the oil conglomerates-- "run don't walk
from the blob."
communiqué picked up by Columbian government army radio,
operators elbow themselves listening in, eating frijoles,
their enemies, bumbling with the gringa's tits and asses
"shit they didn't say a woman" the garbled kidnapper
complained while a Columbian trooper surveyed the situation
saying "Mierda" laughing members of the military
pushing platanos around, dragging them through salsa like
small eels, the oldest one toyed with his regulation zipper
"I'd know what to do with two women!" Laughing
white teeth. "Two regulation zippers." In fact,
there were two. Two "indigenous" women who had
probably read "I, Rigoberta Menchu"
young boy from Santa Cruz whose "Day to Day Columbian
Spanish" had been hard earned and praised. Was anyone
listening to the impeccable nature of his cries while they
tortured and shot him? The sky couldn't lie. The constellations
began changing. Venus was bound and dragged through the
sky by some rogue constellation decorating Orion's belt
with sharp lethal looking sadistic studs. "This ain't
no party, this ain't no disco, this ain't no fooling around."
The Sadist told the three "This is no furnace, and
you ain't Shadrach, Meschach, and Abednago. You've been
used like piñatas." 8mm. 9mm. One. Two. Tres.
slung them like sandbags and piled them on the Venezuelan
side. An old woman in big crusty boots feet sinking in the
marsh found them at night, the bodies.
she opened her lantern three moths were seen to fly
of the flame.