“When the black medicine gave out, she added water and a lot more coffee and boiled the whole again. The stuff got stronger and stronger, thicker and thicker. In the end you could almost stick the spoon in there and it would keep standing upright. ‘Now the coffee is real good,’ Grandma would say.”
– John (Fire) Lame Deer from Lame Deer, Seeker of Visions
For starters, thumbtacks are spread out. Then, hands are taped and blades concealed, and Akers is all knuckles — slurped his cup of joe — ready for a street fight. Akers has clearly taken notes and is eager to throw hands. Choke ‘em with their own gi. Gouge ‘em using their own fingers. Take ‘em on, anyone anywhere: won’t see the sunset; won’t see the sun… Cross the street; “Black Coffee” is on the right side of the city lights, down at the end of a dark alley in the fantasy of violence, slapping bass, puffing out chest, pounding toms, before a full retreat into dry ice, “fake dirt,” bricks in the wall, and dazzling blanks. Akers makes a mean cup.
• Matthew Akers: http://futurebarbarian.blogspot.com
• Suite 309: https://suite309.bandcamp.com
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