Frisson

The simple English dictionary definition of frisson is: an emotional thrill; (and oh yes, I do have a simple English dictionary...as portable companion to a weightier and more complex tome). However, frisson is a word of French origin, and for our friends across the channel it means a shiver or a shudder.

My challenge, then, is to find out whether a blog - or more realistically the poem within a blog - can induce the thrill of a shiver, shock or shudder in you, gentle readers. We shall see in due course.

exiting (sic)  times

First, though, there are several reasons why we might be about to experience emotional thrills in the week ahead. Monday sees phase two of the great unlocking in England's green and pleasant. Throw open all the doors. We'll be able to mingle and hug, just not too intensely; drink beer inside a pub, indulge in non-takeaway pizza* and curry, to be enjoyed immensely with friends at leisure and with no washing-up; drop into a cafe for a latte while out on the non-essential shop; and for followers of the Mighty (that's Blackpool FC to you, aka the Seasiders or even the Tangerines), we've got two League One play-off semi-finals to look forward to, with fans being allowed back inside grounds to watch the games. Deep joy.

If, as fans, we want to get dizzier still, there may even be another play-off final at Wembley at the end of the month, for you know what they say: "You can't beat Blackpool at this time of year!" What an away-day that would be for those of us who haven't travelled more than a couple of miles from our homes in a very long time. We dare to dream the tangerine dream.

*Sad footnote to the above: the Pizza Express in the jewel of the north shut during the first wave of pandemic a year ago and has never re-opened its doors. It's now gutted, as am I, for an American Hot and a cold Peroni had been affordable and favourite treats every few weeks since the 1970s. (I've probably consumed a thousand of them and sense a future blog on that score.)

But enough of this wide opening preamble. It's time for some cheap thrills. Here's the poem as promised,  conjured from the darkest quarter of the imaginarium, chock full of sex and death, (eros and thanatos if you'd prefer) and quite OTT.  I'm taking a chance with it, as it's a narrative way outside my comfort zone, so I hope it ticks at least one of your shiver, shock or shudder boxes. Do let me know...

That Long Strange Trip Advisor Poem

State facilities rating (scale 0 through 5):

Staff are more than courteous, I've been

treated like a queen. Room basic but clean, 

bed firm, and breakfast to die for.

They offered me a priest but I said

send me the other one in his stead.

They didn't understand. And I only smoke

after a good fuck. Still, a lucky five stars. 

Reason for visit (e.g. business or leisure):

Mercy. Where do I begin, honey?  I was

a teenage stunt cunt for a porn film pimp

until I married a rich dude; just my luck

he turned out to be another kinky mother.

You any idea how hard a man can get 

when you put a ligature around his neck 

and pull it tighter as he shoots his load?

One time I figured I'd just keep pulling...

...his death spasm made my insides flip,

and sent a thrill right up my spine. 

No better feeling, plus I got to keep

his bucks. Two years later, different state

same tricks. I was getting a taste for it,

rich man, wild sex gone wrong, no blame.

So it went on. I didn't care if his ass was

pink, brown, yellow or black just so long

as he had money in the bank and hot lust

for me in his heart. Then the Feds began

to join up the dots, got bang on my trail

soon after number five: arrest, trial, jail.

Thought I 'd rot in there, but seems not,

and that's the reason for me visiting here.

Business or leisure? A bit of both, I'd say.

 

Additional comments (this part optional):

The Black Widow fries tonight, a hot date

with destiny. I guess a lot of white ass 

wants to see the ghost of electricity howl 

in the bones of my face (thanks Bob)!

My fanny's on the line so I hope they all

come at once. I don't want no limp dicks

witnessing my final coup de grace!

Thank you for completion. Have a nice day.

And thank you, gentle readers. The emotional rollercoaster awaits, S ;-)