like acid....
She gets out of bed naked.... Stash in the Cobra lamp.... Cooks up....
'Turn over.... I'll give it to you in the ass.'
She slides the needle in deep, pulls it out and massages the cheek.... She licks a drop of blood off her finger.
He rolls over with a hard-on dissolving in the grey ooze of junk. In a vale of cocaine and innocence sad-eyed youths yodel for a lost Danny Boy.... We sniffed all night and made it four times... fingers down the black board... scrape the white bone. Home is the heroin home from the sea. and the hustler home from The Bill.... The Pitchman stirs uneasily: 'Take over here will you, kid? Gotta see a man about a monkey.' The Word is divided into units which be all in one piece and should be so taken, but the pieces can be had in any order being tied up back and forth, in and out fore and aft like an innaresting sex arrangement. This book spill off the page in all directions, kaleidoscope of vistas, medley of tunes and street noises, farts and riot yipes and the slamming steel shutters of commerce, screams of pain and pathos and screams plain pathic, copulating cats and outraged squawk of the displaced bull head, prophetic mutterings of brujo in nutmeg trances, snapping necks and screaming mandrakes, sigh of orgasm, heroin silent as dawn in the thirsty cells, Radio Cairo screaming like a berserk tobacco auction, and flutes of Ramadan fanning the sick junky like a gentle lush worker in the grey subway dawn feeling with delicate fingers for the green folding crackle... This is Revelation and Prophecy of what I can pick up without FM on my 1920 crystal set with antennae of jissom.... Gentle reader, we see God through our assholes in the flash bulb of orgasm.... Through these orifices transmute your body.... The way OUT is the way IN.... Now I, William Seward, will unlock my word horde. . My Viking heart fares over the great brown river where motors put put put in jungle twilight and whole trees float with huge snakes in the branches and sad-eyed lemurs watch the shore, across the Missouri field (The Boy finds a pink 114
arrowhead) out along distant train whistles, comes back to me hungry as a street boy don't know to peddle the ass God gave him... Gentle Reader, The Word will leap on you with leopard man iron claws, it will cut off fingers and toes like an opportunist land crab, it will hang you and catch your jissom like a scrutable dog, it will coil round your thighs like a bushmaster and inject a shot glass of rancid ectoplasm.... And why a
The other day I am returning from the long lunch thread from mouth to ass all the days of our years, when I see an Arab boy have this little black and white dog know how to walk on his hind legs.... And a big yaller dog come on the boy for affection and the boy shove it away, and the yaller dog growl and snap at the little toddler, snarling if he had but human gift of tongues: 'A crime against nature right there.'
So I dub the yaller dog Scrutable.... And let me say in passing, and I am always passing like a sincere Spade, that the Inscrutable East need a heap of salt to get it down... Your Reporter bang thirty grains of M a day and sit eight hours inscrutable as a turd.
'What are you thinking?' says the squirming American Tourist.... To which I reply: 'Morphine have depressed my hypothalamus, seat of libido and emotion, and since the front brain acts only at second hand with backbrain titillation, being a vicarious type citizen can only get his kicks from behind, I must report virtual absence of cerebral event. I am aware of your presence, but since it has for me no affective connotation, my affect having been disconnect by the junk man for the non-payment, I am not innarested in your doings.... Go or come, shit or fuck yourself with a rasp or an asp --tis well done and fitting for a queen --but The Dead and The Junky don't care.... ' They are
'Which is the way down the aisle to the water closet?' I asked the blonde usherette.
'Right through here, sir.... Room for one more inside.'
'Have you seen Pantopon Rose?' said the old junky in the black overcoat. The Texas sheriff has killed his complicit Vet., Browbeck The Unsteady, involved in horse heroin racket. . A horse down with the aftosa need a sight of heroin to ease his pain and maybe some of that heroin take off across the lonesome prairie and whinny in Washington Square.... Junkies rush up yelling: 'Heigh oOO Silver.'
'But where is the
'Take it off! Take it off!'
The old queen meets himself coming round the other way in burlesque of adolescence, gets the knee from his phantom of the Old Old Howard... down skid row to Market Street Museum shows all kinds masturbation and self- abuse... young boys need it special.... They was ripe for the plucking forgot way back yonder in the corn hole... lost in little scraps of delight and burning scrolls....
Read the metastasis with blind fingers.
Fossil message of arthritis...
'Selling is more of a habit than using.' --Lola La Chata, Mexico, DF. Sucking terror from needle scars, underwater scream mouthing numb nerve warnings of the yen to come, throbbing bite site of rabies...
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