Philadelphia: the crust of plebeian scum

In Philadelphia

“It's a town full of losers

Then we're pulling out of here to win”

~ Bruce Springsteen, Thunder Road

When I first read Lovecraft as I child, I didn’t believe that towns could have personalities. How wrong I was!

A certain substance of impersonal conformism pervades the town of Philadelphia (it doesn’t deserve the appellation “city”)

Tattooed men and sluttish women

Those with various diseases, writhing forbidden in rooms not their own

A fellow with a penchant for philosophy and poetry fucking a bitch ten years older in a room with no hot water

Why?

Time takes its toll, and makes us all slaves to its sluttishness

My first orgasm was a revelation of otherness

My second was dirty

My third: PAINFUL

My fourth and final a gaze into eyes belonging to a dark demon, an eye of the pit, with no love, no mercy, nor any sense of inter-personal passion.

That gaze was celebratory of only the deepest spasms of the body

Not of the soul.

When the monsters showed up at the door and I stood my ground

Everyone surprised (including me)

I felt like a god!

They all ran off.

Me in my Armani suit and silk shirt scaring off dudes with big muscles

Who would’ve thunk?

But it happened.

I have only myself to thank.

I took the worst the world has to offer, and I gave back my own violence

Which is deeper and more powerful than anything lurking here in the sun.