Zack Mexico

Jenny Besetzt

Saturday, April 06
Doors: 7pm : Show: 8pm
Oh sure. Me and Zack go way back. I call ‘em Zack, but the thing about that is, well see when you get to know someone long enough you get to calling each other by just the one name. Used to be I called ‘em same as everyone else, Zack Mexico. But that was before. That was before I knew. That was back when me and Zack weren’t but about ye high… but time passed, as it often did in those days. Those days. Those days that so paradoxically grew shorter. And then of course, there were the nights too. The nights that grew longer. And I don’t mean longer like a clock. I mean longer like a train. I mean longer like a river, a rushing river- and not a babbling brook like blah blah blah, but a deafening roar like being born and the light is so white and the air is cold and what is this staring back at me so alien yet somehow so familiar? Which looks like my eyes inside my eyes inside my eyes inside my eyes? What is that sound cooing like a dove and then gone like my heart and now the colors that make me feel so afraid, flashing faster lasting less and less per blink as I grow longer? No, not longer like a clock, longer like a taffy giraffe laughing dripping down dropping slow and swirling faster spinning backwards pushing forward toward the edges. Longer like my breath is breathing paradoxes growing shorter slowing faster beating on against the morning like a drummer drumming something constant on the godforsaken sun!

But now I just call ‘em same as you and everyone else: Zack Mexico… Of course, if you know know ‘em like I do, it’s just Zack Mexico. You get to know someone long enough you get to calling each other by just Zack Mexico. It’s just Zack Mexico. It’s Zack Mexico.
Zack. Mexico.
Zack… Mexico… 
…Zack… 
…Mexico…

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