I’LL NEVER SAY NEVER TO ALWAYS
by Max G Morton and Mike Martinez
A set of four fanzines for young patient lovers equipped with accompanying CD soundtracks. All words and images by Morton and Martinez. The violence and composure enclosed is limited to 100 glossy black boxes. These hand-crafted coffins were made in celebration of Heartworm #37 but, due to bad lighting, were lost in a sea of goose-steppers and transsexual go-go dancers.

#1 ONE OF US WILL BE BETTER LOOKING WHEN IT’S ALL OVER
Neighborhood star-makers, next-door neighbors starved for attention. A little higher, a little lower. Pour your gold upon me. Sparkle, shine, smile and spread. That’s a girl. If only these sauna walls could talk.

#2 MY EYES OPENED BUT I NEVER WOKE UP
At times the body has been known to become a graveyard for the ghost. By internalizing the dead in order to accept the lost a new voice can develop. The skeleton becomes possessed and ventriloquized. The passenger can be filled with a lot of things as the wandering soul fights with its final message. This too can happen to vast spaces of lands. Daily we walk among battlefields on the verge. We all have our crosses to bare. We all miss someone. Four red monks carry a black goat across the snows to nowhere. Some deaths take forever and yes, the spirit world isn’t that easy to contain.

#3 SOME FOLKS DON’T LOOK UP UNTIL THEY’RE FLAT ON THEIR BACKS
I went to the Boot Hill Saloon and all I got was this lousy t-shirt. One eight ball and two visits to the free clinic later, I was officially in a long-term relationship with a recurring Bear Shot named Lips. Perpetual wet shirt contests and whiskey shouts out of boot. Bike Week is going to kill me.

#4 YOU CAN LIVE THROUGH MINE UNTIL YOURS RETURN
Fuck your world. This middle finger is like a rusty nail. Sit and spin on the hypodermic rocket ride of your life. These spiderwebs and teardrops mean something. Leather outsides and rusted insides. Lock up your daughters so we can kick down your doors. Motorcycles vs cars, bare knuckles vs everyone and everything. A den carved out in the middle of the earth of the one-percent who couldn’t be tamed.

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