The Fate of Gods
by Albert Russo
To tell you the truth, I
did like Haniya before I learnt of her terrorist
shenanigans, but now, I don’t know what to
do, coz she might drag me one day into some kind
of bellowing and uncushy adventure, in
spite of her being ‘redeemed’ as a
journalist.
Even though my uncle thinks
that I’m a pretty daring gal, there are
things I do not wish to try, like illegal drugs
or shoot-outs. I didn’t come to Israel to
fight for either the Israelis or the Palestinians.
Actually, we weren’t supposed to be here any
longer, overstaying our welcome because of Miss
friggin Corona. What a present! And then too,
Haniya is now making doe’s eyes to me. Don’t
forget she is transgender. I have nothing against
them who want to become a person of the opposite
sex, but I still prefer to keep mine without
being setchually hair-assed. And too,
she’s three years older than me, with horror-mones
that haven’t attacked my body yet. That is
supposed to happen at puberty, which I hope comes
Joanna-come-lately, the later the better, with
all the pissing blood and what not. My mom warned
me about it all.
Hey goddessss, why the hell
did you afflict us girls in that manner, fer
chrissake? And not men!!! You, flippant beast! No,
I won’t apologize, you just botched us when
you created Adam and Eve. Were you drunk, or
stoned, or both? There oughta be a higher
authority, yeah, higher than thou, to prosecute
and lock you in a cage with your nemesis Herr
devil. And I would be the judgess. Mark my word,
your turn will come, like all the gods of Ancient
Egypt, Greece or Rome, who fell one after the
other and have been cast in bronze or in marble,
for us humans to remember what nuts you were.
Actually, when I see you in
the museums my uncle drags me to, I spit at your
feet - mini-mously, so that nobody can
see me, coz they might think I was being gross
like them Chinese peasants, who still use public
spitoons, expectorating - not expecting, you
nerds! I ain’t talking about women carrying
a baby inside their guts -, for everyone to hear
how well they can get rid of their disgusting
mucus shmucus. In some parts of Asia, it
is still aceptable to burp loudly and to stinking
fart at table, to prove that they have thoroughly
enjoyed their food. Wow, the smells of sewagy
garlic, onions and dead rats!
I sometimes ask myself why
we talk with such delight about what we eat, the
way a delicacy or a dessert is prepared, but
never of what comes after - hey, stop it already,
I ain’t being vulgar, this is a legitimate
question, even if no one dares voice it!
‘From mouth to poop’
oughta be the title of a study done by a
nutritionist. How less palatable are dissections
of the human body? Siiiis.
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