HOOD

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Debuting today is HOOD, a pop-up magazine that will be up as long as I deem necessary.

The following work is by Bonnie Bowman, a writer who moonlights as Catwoman.

Please show her some love, and if you wish to be included, Facebook me.

Work by Elio Ianacci, David Manear, and Mike Blouin tk.

ODE TO THE RODEO CLOWN
Bonnie Bowman
 
The buckle bunnies strut in their bedazzled cowboy hats and skin-tight, pearl snapped cowgirl shirts. They are here, at the rodeo, for the bronc busters and bull riders. Back at the hotel room, they buck and flail and hope it lasts more than eight seconds. The buckle bunnies notch their rhinestone belts and leave the hotel room with proud mussed-up hair and a telltale bowlegged swagger. The bronc busters and bull riders stand in nondescript hotel doorways, in dusty Wranglers that ride low on their hips, silver belt buckles dangling nonchalantly, hat-head hair plastered to their skulls. They watch them leave and drink a Bud.
But what of the rodeo clown, dismissed by buckle bunnies ignorant to his charms. You go back to his hotel room and it’s a carnival. You nearly trip on his oversized clown shoes in the doorway. Hanging on his wall are gigantic polka-dot shorts, hung by wide candy-striped suspenders. He has a tickle trunk full of explosives and offers to shoot off a rocket for you. He has the best pot. You make him wear his uncomfortable and massive Disney-like bear head while he fucks you because, really, when will you ever have this chance again. The bear head thuds violently against the headboard and you can hear him swearing inside it in a small muffled voice. You ignore it because the bear head is smiling. When he looks down at you, long soft cartoon eyelashes brush your face. It lasts more than eight seconds. You shoot off a rocket and it smashes through the hotel room window and you both laugh hysterically because of the best pot. When you leave, he gives you a big, sweaty, grateful hug. He returns to his room with the busted window, the smell of gunpowder in the air, and he notches his eighty-inch belt with smiley-faces on it.
 
  • humbee1

    some writing leaves the smell of gunpowder in the air, like this Ode. virtuoso at work.

    • lynncrosbie

      Thank you: will pass on your fine compliment!

  • I love this piece of flesh flash. As bizarre and crusty as it is, I believe it all.

  • Astrida

    oh yes. you do deliver, bonnie.

  • Bonnie, I ‘ve said it before: you need your own column. More, please.

    Grant

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