smoke deep into their aching lungs.... They really got relief.... THE COUNTY CLERK: 'So there I was sitting in front of Jed's store over in Cunt Lick my peter standing up straight as a jack pine under my Levis just apulsin' in the sun.... Weell, old Doc Scranton walks by, a good old boy too, there's not a finer man in this valley than Doc Scranton. He's got a prolapsed asshole and when he wants to get screwed he'll pass you his ass on three feet of intes-tine.... If he's a mind to it he can drop out a piece of gut reaches from his office clear over to Roy's Beer Place, and it go feelin' around lookin' for a peter, just afeelin' around like a blind worm.... So old Doc Scranton sees my peter and he stops like a pointin' dog and he says to me, 'Luke, I can take your pulse from here.' '
Browbeck and Young Seward fight with hog castrators through barns and cages and yiping kennels... whinnying horses bare great yellow teeth, cows bellow, dogs howl, copulating cats scream like babies, a pen of huge hogs, spines bristling, give a great Bronx cheer. Browbeck the Unsteady has fallen to the sword of Young Seward, clutches at blue intestines spurting from an eight-inch gash. Young Seward cuts off Browbeck's cock and holds it pulsing in the smoky rose sunrise.... Browbeck screams... subway brakes spit ozone....
'Stand back, folks.... Stand back.'
'They say somebody pushed him.'
'He was weaving around unsteady like he couldn't see good.'
'Too much smoke in the eyes, I guess.'
Mary the Lesbian Governess has slipped to the pub floor on a bloody kotex.... A threehundred-pound fag tramples her to death with pathic whinnies.... He sings in hideous falsetto:
He is trampling out the vintage cohere the grapes of wrath are stored, He has loosed the fatal lightning of his terrible swift sword.
He pulls a gilded wooden sword and chops the air. His corset flies off and whistles into the dart board.
The old bullfighter's sword buckles on bone and whistles into the heart of the Espontaneo, pins his unconsummate valor to the stands.
65
'So this elegant faggot comes to New York from Cunt Lick, Texas, and he is the most piss elegant fag of them all. He is taken up by old women of the type batten on young fags, toothless old predators too weak and too slow to run down other prey. Old moth-eaten tigress shit sure turn into a fag eater.... So this citizen, being an arty and crafty fag, begins making costume jewelry and jewelry sets. Every rich old gash in Greater New York wants he should do her sets, and he is making money, 21, El Morocco, Stork, but no time for sex, and all the time worrying about his rep..., He begins playing the horses, supposed to be something manly about gambling God knows why, and he figures it will build him up to be seen at the track. Not many fags play the horses, and those that play lose more than the others, they are lousy gamblers plunge in a losing streak and hedge when they win... which being the pattern of their lives.... Now every child knows there is one law of gambling: winning and losing come in streaks. Plunge when you win, fold when you lose. (I once knew a fag dip into the till --not the whole two thousand at once on the nose win or Sing Sing. Not our Gertie... Oh no a deuce at a time...)
'So he loses and loses and lose some more. One day he is about to put a rock in a set when the obvious occur. 'Of course, I'll replace it later.' Famous last words. So all that winter, one after the other, the diamonds, emeralds, pearls, rubies and star sapphires of the
'So the opening night of the Met this old hag appear as she thinks resplendent in her diamond tiara. So this other old whore approach and say, 'Oh, Miggles, you're so smart... to leave the real ones at home.... I mean we're simply mad to go around tempting fate.'
' 'You're mistaken, my dear. These
' 'Oh but Miggles dahling, they're not.... I mean ask your jeweler.... Well just ask
'So a Sabbath is hastily called. (Lucy Bradshinkel, look to thy emeralds. ) All these old witches examining their rocks like a citizen find leprosy on himself.
' 'My chicken blood ruby!'
' 'My black oopalls!' Old bitch marry so many times so many gooks and spics she don't know her accent from her ass....
' 'My stah sahphire!' shriek a
' 'I mean they are strictly from Woolworth's....'
' 'There's only one thing to do. I'm going to call the police,' says a strong-minded, outspoken old thing; and she clump across the floor on her low heels and calls the fuzz.'
