The Axe-Throwing Phase of Our Friendship

A GammaGamma Post-script: So..my dearling, did you see that Gogol Bordello cover album art?

It initially evokes two intersecting arrows but then the eye decides on crossed axe handles.

  

A thought like a gurgle and pop: We’ve moved past the whizzing arrows phase of our friendship.

Now we’ll enter into the hurling & hacking of  shaman tomahawks, of elven axes. Axes with the disreputable heft of carnie roust-a-bouts. Axes with the honed glimmer of gypsy seers… suave & swarthy… with impressive mustaches, upon which, fairy acrobats do aerial tricks.

They are weighty these axes but when wielded there’s a familiar folkloric flex. Flux.

One question? Will we develop an axe-trading act, taking rambunctious turns at nearly missing the others head?

(If so, if I lose an ear, I’m going to gift it to Van Gogh. Dramatically laid out in an oyster shell casket. Like a tiny fetus.)

Or will we just set off and hack — at the black — like psychopaths?

I’m in, either way.

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