Red, Rum & RedRum

Red light. Stop. Motels, cars, bars and cum. The police siren. It’s ringing. There’s blood on the motel floor. Cheap motel, cheap blood. I am knee deep in blood. Bitches brew. Jazz, nervous jazz, chaotic. The trumpet’s falling. The bass is thumping. My hysteria touched the crescendo.

There’s a car hissing by my window. I see a silhouette by the window across the street. I washed down three lines of coke with rum. The red is getting redder. Is this hell already? Oh lord save me from the devil. The silhouette is playing the trumpet. The crescendo is devilish. Jazz is the devil’s sound. Voodoo beats. My mom always told me that, should have listened to her.

I am the egg man, I am the walrus. Stop with the rock and roll. I am the red walrus. Or the red elephant. Both of them have tusks. Break the mirror with the tusk. I shan’t see it. Smash it. Smash it. Smash it. I am looking for the man in the mirror, I am asking him to change his ways. But the mirror’s cracked. How do I tell you how I feel? It looks like a neo-noir film here. All black and red. Let me get myself some Marlboro Reds. Black boys look blue under the moonlight. They made the blues probably at night. In New Orleans. Rama, Krishna, Shiva — black boys blue at night.

Let me dim the lights. Let me be blue like the gods above. I was having a quick one while she was away. A quick hump and thump. The blood and the cum on the floor have dried up. The footsteps sound crispy. Knock Knock. She is back. Miles is still blowing the trumpet out loud. Erotic, scary and platonic. Let me do the deed while he’s still playing. The floor is creaking and moaning for fresh red. Motel, money, murder, madness. Let’s change the mood from glad to sadness. The red again got redder. RedRum. RedRum. RedRum.