July 2004 / Volume Five / Issue Three / Online
Jason Floyd Williams
“King Ghidorah on my clitora!

For women who want that
King Ghidorah feeling but
don’t want to date
the King.”

That’s what the box said
on it. Beneath this late-night aimed slogan
was a picture of the three-headed
dragon that used to bump
heads w/ Godzilla & Mothra
in Tokyo.

Barb found the box next
to a dumpster at
her job.

It was a prototype shown
at, and rejected at, the
Pittsburgh New Sexual & Kitchen-Usable
Appliances Convention.

This device, as Barb discovered,
left the users partially invalid
for several hours–
The mistaken short-sightedness of marrying a
metallic-schlong & a garbage disposal.

Barb lay stunned– like a tropical fish
that is dynamited out of a corral reef– on her
bedroom floor,
reading the various attachments
on the box as a means
of pawning clarity.

“Tongue types included:
Special candy-button romance;

Cat’s tongue denial; and
lazy butter knife.
Also, the long awaited
Hydra-attachment.”

In her ears blimped a Lionel Train
& the stops it made were
reminders to lock the bedroom door
when her parents were home.