in St Louis

this one has multiple piercings, in both ears. and, allegedly, his scrotum. this is intermediate-level. advanced is 3-d inserted tattoos and permanent hooks for hanging, in your kneecaps. but, on some people, this guy, it looks like someone really had to force the shit in there. it was clearly painful, but not in the liberating way. like those rings don’t belong there. he had them put there, because he wanted liberation; but he couldn’t be more choked by the shackles of self-control, social decorum, propriety in every single other aspect of his being. so, his piercings shout “Hey! Help Me Out. Out”

this one owns, maybe just runs, a skatepark. does trick bike. has been done unto. “as you would have others do unto you” time and drugs and lots, lots more time. Twoface, from Batman, but in this case, one face is outside, smashed, the other inside, the shining eyes. shining eyes surrounded by faceroads, dirt track, the trick bike and tracks from hard knocks, said the Fox to Nox. but he freed me, saved me, twice, not just once. and not, “either my way or the highway,” either, like Jeshua, “God saves.” “go learn to pump the mini, dude. nobody’s on it. if they come, take your turn. fuck ’em. you paid yer sesh. just gotta walk through that door.”


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