backhand stories the creative writing blog

Highways, factories, automobiles, noises, people, sirens, traffic lights, smog, smells, crowds, streetcorners, bars, beggars, factoryworkers, crackheads, officeworkers, blacks, whites, hookers, drunks, immigrants, yourmother, and more highrises and more automobiles, and more people and more noises and – And the smell of carbon monoxide everywhere; from the highways, the streets, the intersections – brown, spewing clouds of auto – exhaust engulfing the city. Monstrously multiplying office towers P-U-S-H-I-N-G Up into the sky – these concrete and steel monsters so hideously ugly and monotonous as to make the skin C-R-A-W-L.

In ghettos street gangs with guns – pop! pop! pop! tat! tat! tat! blam! blam! blam! – splattered blood upon concrete – And everywhere the silent m-O-a-n-ing of fornification – Yes! – for-ni-fi-ca-tion behind walls and draped windows and closed doors – everywhere around you – everybody’s fucking fucking! FUCKING! – you just can’t see them that’s all – everywhere luscious sinuous fornification; wet juicy soft HARD – ooooAA – And … and office workers in three piece suits gorging down slimy cheese BIG MACS with sticky grease dripping and oozing, oozing and dripping and the nOOI-OI-Se of Construction workers tear-RRR-ring ripping-ING-ING-ING apart street surfaces and ShHOOUTing LaAAAughing kids playing hooky from school and High School football players G-R-U-N-Ting as their Big Heavy Bodies SLAMMM against each other and the bloody slaughtered smell of massive meat BUTCHERING factories and the m-O-aning sounds of adulterous husbands and wives cheating on each other in cheap hotel rooms and the filthy feel of dir-ty used mo-ney passing through sweaty – smudgy hands and Big Muscle-Bound Hunks taking turns fuck-ing each other up the butt and the sight of a desperate old lady pick – pick – picking through m-OU-nnds of sme-ee-elly old gar-bage and the Gru-U-U-unts of body builders in crampt SWEAT – smee-eelly gyms and the gri-mi-ness of dirty litt-ered parks and the Sharp Edge of a mugger’s knife against the skin of your throat and the aroma of fresh marijuana where suburban teenagers gather and Dark alleyways in downtown where prostitutes in tight leather miniskirts and no panties await quick-ies on lunch break and the Happy words and Laughing camaraderie of Darkened bars where Off-shift industrial workers share a beer and transvestites on subways making public shows and the clang – clang – clanging of w-O-rking machinery in your Ears and the hot stickiness of Greasy Sweaty Bodies pushed – shoved – together on crowded city buses and the screa-eams and the Pa-Pa-Pa-pai-ai-ain of a 98 pound weakling being beaten beaten by his jail cell mate and ominously HAULKing public housing projects engULFing their tenants and the last moments of an old condemned building as the wreaking ball SLAM(!) CRASH(!) BANG(!) and the loud SCREAMING siren and RED FLASHES of an ambulance speeding desperately to the hospital and the Bright White Teeth of a smiling College Co-ed somewhere step-ping into a bedroom with a guy she just met and the big bright RED of an overhanging FLAG in some little room where a little communist group struggles heroically against overwhelming odds to fight for the working class and the gray-brown smoot of decaying apartment buildings and the sizzle-crackling of food cooking in deep-fried grease and the RUSH-RUSH of a waitress working a diner during Lunch Hour and the m-O-aning sound of a recently-married open-legged secretary accepting her bosses’ diseased sperm into her womb.

Music (!) all kinds of music, – that restless ritmo de picante bailando through the air in barrios Latinos as pretty tank-top senoritas with naked belly buttons walk down the street giggling “shyly” at the stares of neighborhood Machos watching those tight senorita asses go Back – and forth, Back and – Forth and elsewhere long hairs gy-ra-ting to steel electrical BLASTS of VOLUmonous metal guitars ROCKing through the air and Black ghetto Toughs nodding their heads softly Up and do-own to that off- BEAT on their hi-fi chillin’ down the Avenue. Classical in the chaoticallymessystrewn room of some starving poet wren-ching his Heart out on paper. And rhythm-and-blues in a bar where anybody in working clothes and a hard-hat is welcome.

The city, Gigantic SPASMS of movement! Automobiles, and trains and airplanes and people walking running rushing sitting shitting farting pissing yelling fucking laughing crying – whole entire multitudes of millions all living breathing and working on top of each other in this sprawling mass of metropolitana. (If our President can make up words so can I dammit!) Millions and millions of ape-descended animals thrown into this socially – complex living breathing organism of sprawling buildings factories highways and concrete.

Read Wolf Larsen’s crazy freaky novel. SLAM! BOOM! CRASH! has been recently published, and is now available at and other online book retailers. Wolf Larsen and his fiction, plays, and poetry are on the Internet! Check it out at: