In Which Tarrare Eats Two Coveted Boppers

Will Arbery

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NOTE: Tarrare was a real 18th-century French spy who was known for his insatiable appetite. When there wasn’t enough food, he would eat anything and everything else.


(to Justin Bieber. This is the first time he’s spoken.)

Last night, this, Bieber, you sat perch and says “Yo, I think you might be my best friend in the world.” You ask, does Tarrare dream. Yes I have. You say “Usually I dream about blackness because I don’t dream. I just fall asleep, see black, and wake up. If I’m crazy, and the world forgets me, and I never leave my castle, is there any such thing as a place where my head doesn’t go whirr pop click like a motormachine?” Ah beautiful Bieber! I remember every word. The stream of speaking. Your brain goes purrs pop click as a machine motor, and the expression is a pulse of a thousand thousand people. Remember: to dream is the whole time. It is a sound that I cannot decipher, thousand sounds. Dreams is the boom, the boom. I know. You cannot sleep as you sleep, for the boom call. Sometimes cacophones, it seems as William Faulkner that I ate. And I ate his horse. And I drank his bourbon. And I read its books. If in the boom, in the boom, in the boom, in the boom, comes out of that what William F spake: “in order to overpass to love, where there might be paradox and inconsistency but nothing fault or false.” You said “That’s how I feel right now, bro. I don’t know. Selena and me. Like, the preconceived. But then. Overpassing to love, bro.” You had a dream last night. I know because of the pig squeals. In the dream you think about all the pigs that you ate. In the dream you think about to run down below a street and always is as the death, this death for hunger. Why cannot I have it all? I believe that I was meant to have it all. And that is why I must eat you. Yours is a hunger done for my momentum.

Tarrare pins Justin Bieber down.

I looked at you, of your days on the Youtube, number a single ones: “the Baby,” “the Boy Friend,” “a Less Than Solitary Girl.” I cried for your strength, your oscillation. The manner you consumed the world. The internet warlocks bouncing to the swaggie beat. It is the proof that you are master. And I looked at and followed. And now your heart is broken and you like a pig cannot see the sky. Selena Gomez will not be an item with you. And you sit here starving. Sessions of excusing oneself have been smashed to gone! I want you to be a part of the voices in of me. Justin Bieber, you can be the highest voice. In of me there are politicos and the big writers, the big songers and the children and the thinkers and the workers and the death and the groans and the happy and the blue and the blue whales and the pigs of thousand million and the papers and the pigs and the ladders and the claws and the machines and the ideas and the pigs. But above that all, I will leave the increase of voice to Bieber, of as

(To the tune of “Baby”)


Yes. Yes. To Tarrare. The fuse and forms, with Bieber till the shrapnel. If there is a thing that I will say to you, this is this: to jump like a moon-sheep to love, and to obtain hunger. Here it is now, don’t mm don’t sing, the singing happens in me now.

Tarrare begins to eat Justin Bieber in his entirety.

You art my love, you art my heart. And we will never do, never, never to be at part. Shhh. And I wanna play it cool. But I’m losin’ you. You know that you got me dazin’ cuz you are so amazing. This is a success song, it should hit, radiate in the ear pieces. Dance your dance of Bieber down amongst.

Tarrare finishes eating Justin Bieber.


(to Selena Gomez, whom he’s just eaten.)

Selena. I am French and never die. I eat every things. I know that I am the ugliest one. That I eat all the... what is in front of me, that I ate the Bieber. But I loved the Bieber the Justin Bieber but the... he was too delicious. His words live inside of me however, I ate the words and will not forget the taste. I am the Bieber now. He speaks to my mouth. I asked him to tell me exactly his song, his Orpheus song, the biggest importance. I speak my meal. “Boyfriend.” If I was your best boy friend, Selena, the one you sing to, I would never allow you to walk down a different avenue than the one that I walk down every day. The avenue where I live and can look upon from a big naked window. I can take you places yourself. You know all this about the groin? ’Twas never like this before, baby. Feelings that feel they incur a risk! Or you never never... will know never only I obtained from the money in my hands... that I would like to blow, really, the loot of loot of... loot on you. Chillin by the fire while we eatin' the... what I do not know. We’ll have to find food. No. Me. I’ll find. But I know of, says you. But I am in charge of the goodness now! HERE COMES THE HOOKER. Hello to the falsetto voice in three two one: All to be what you want. Girl, allow me speak with you. THE HOOKER. If I was your friend, I would never want to to to to allow you to be going. Important to keep you on my arm girl. You are never alone. I can be gentleman, does not import what you want. If I was your friend, Selena, I do not allow you never to speak of a different avenue, I do not allow you never of avenue. Say to me what you like... I could be your Buzz Lightyear of Humming through the globe and I do the “fight of wanna.” You already know the brand. Imma shine you brilliant, to put it lightly. Oh the girlfriend of the snow, the girlfriend, you could be my girlfriend. You could be my girlfriend until the epic ends of worlds. Do the dance. Do a rotation and a whirls and... express crazy going-on, this hooker as a wind of whirling swaggie! The BRIDGE. Come with me to the bridge! The bridge allows me to be going na na na, na na na, the girl. Na of Ya of na of na of na na na, na na na, the eye. Of na of na of na. In future times when I will digest you, all my friends who dance on my car, they point and say, he was your boyfriend. You will teach me your song. We’ll love like a love song. The bridge of na. Na na na, na na na, Na of of na of na of na na na, na na na, the eye. If of na of na of na, then yes. Then yes. I was your friend.

I’m sorry Selena but I eat people when I’m nervous! I had to I’m sorry Selena Selena SELENA! SELENA! You are not gone, Selena Gomez, you are in Tarrare now. In the books it says he died but I never died. I ate the man who wrote the book. I discovered the eating that gives you forever. Don’t cry for you. Don’t cry for Justin Bieber. I am Justin Bieber. Why would not I be Justin Bieber? I am as respectable as it is.

Do you know that I discovered Justin Bieber? His director is named the Scooter. I told the Scooter about this boy with immense capacity, with hunger that eats a brain part and never exits. I ate the Scooter’s cat in front of him and the Scooter screamed allegiance. The Scooter found Justin Bieber and brought it for the Usher. The Usher advanced it to the world. Then I ate the Scooter and I ate the Usher and I ate the Bieber and now I eat his love! When I was in France, I ate all. I ate walnuts of coconut, the peanuts, the pigs, the living pigs, the brown dirt, the corn flour, my nails, my tires, the nails, my paper, my raw wheat, my candles, my metal. I drank gasoline and urine. I did all this because I could never be satisfied. I always was starved. I always am starved. And therefore I became Justin Bieber. I do not know. The way they look at us and scream our name, Selena! And for love! Like you, I had maybe a first love and had my heartbreak broken, but reflecting over, I do not think that that was love. I think that that was just me being the fifteen and eating her socks and going, “Oh my that then! I know that I am in love. I will marry it.” If I do not think that that was love, then what. I look for love. I eat to it. I think as I age and trying to have relations more of the deepened, maybe I will test it. Currently, I do not know, exactly, if I was in love.

I have very emotional. When I crossed my first explosion of tenderness, I thought it was the end of the world, and I thought I was going to die if I did not have it in my life. It was good to shout it, and just the cry, or call my friends in the middle of the night crying. You cannot choose, you cannot say, 'What can I do to this to leave?’ Everyday you obtains the better. A new meal. It speaks something different. You eat because the same stuff is horrible. SICK OF THE SAME STUFF, SELENA. Because when you are in love, you brand that person your life. So everyday you obtain more and more of you support, and it feels better. I do not like to hide. I like to keep certain things to me, but at the end of daylight, I eat to youth, and I will fall in love. I will lead with the people, and I will explore myself, and I am good with that. Are you joking me? I always think that Zac Efron is my husband that Miley Cyrus my old lady. I will eat them too. And all the boppers. And all the greats. I see the passion that a lot of these girls and boys have, the fanners, and it is beautiful. I like it. I do really. It is special. I am older than young. I am consumer dead but I never died. I am never dead. I keep to live. I look for the youngest world conquer. I look for that uphill in the world. The momentum. The push. What allows me to uphill the world.

Oh no, it gets alone. Selena is not speaking. She is digestion now. When you burp Selena and you burp Justin Bieber and the foods in their backpacks and their backpacks, you feel dry. You feel evil. But they are not gone. Rather, they are in of me, and I cannot look at it different. I am ugly. I disgust. I feel so bad. The people faint when they feel me. I want to sing. I need to sing. The world will come all to my threshold and say "sings again," and I will sing. While they sing, I will split my body opens. Every meat-eater in of me will have relaxed me. Thousand demons will hurry in the crowd. They will everyone eat. Everyone will become a demon. Everyone will split open. They will consume the entire world. Then they will return in me. And I can rest. And I will sing the song, the song that I know, the one that does not allow me to go downhill, does not sleep or dies. Voices carry to France and kick it for kicking me. You find the song in your meal.

And I sing my meal SING YUM HILARY DUFF!

(to the tune of “Come Clean”)

We allow going, of return to the beginning, of return to when the earth the sun, the stars all were aligned. Let the rain fall down below and awaken my dreams, if it to allow washing far my health of spirit. I to cause hears wanna the thunder I cry of wanna, to lower the rain fall, I come clean. I come clean.


(to the tune of “With Arms Wide Open”)

With the arms with open.


(to the tune of “Fight the Power”)

Fight the strength. Fight the strength that is.


(to the tune of “Everyday”)

The everyday things obtain better.


(to the tune of “Hound Dog”)

You groin’t nothing but a dog dog, walking lower in the street.


(to the tune of “Jimmy Cracked Corn”)

Jimmy cracked corn and I cannot blink.


(the tune is gone)

Badadadada! Badadadada! Badadadadada!

SING YUM THE PIGS THE SHARP CRY! of oink of oink they cannot look at the sky so their sings is desperate terror song of oink of oink of oink of oink.

SING OWWWWWWW! Metal. Pulse. Thrum. Deafblow. Oh. Tear. Tear. Torn. Smoked. Flubber. Fissure. Bone. Drinks. Flank. Noisy breathing. Hammer. Heart. I ate it. I ate it. Where am I? What room?

It’s the same.

I return always to the same me always.

I’m hungry.


ART: Jenn Brehm, Jason Polan,
Grant Willing

FICTION: Kirby Johnson, Anjali Sachdeva, Chad Simpson, S. E. Smith

NONFICTION: Laura E. Davis, Aaron Gilbreath, Alexandra Kimball, Elena Passarello, Alison Stine

POETRY:Samuel Amadon, Will Arbery, Elizabeth Arnold, Melissa Broder, Kara Candito, John Lee Clark, Graham Foust, Kit Frick, Paul Killebrew, Kyle McCord, Shane McCrae, Geoffrey G. O'Brien, Sandra Simonds, Bruce Smith

ET CETERA: Flannery O'Connor Soundboard, Poetry Bingo

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