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.. "Taxi boys waiting for a pickup," Eduardo said and died of an overdose in Madrid.... Powder trains burn back through pink convolu- tions of tumescent flesh... set off flash bulbs of orgasm... pin-point photos of arrested motion smooth brown side twisted to light a ciga- rette.... He stood there in a 1920 straw hat somebody gave him... soft mendicant words fallings like dead birds in the dark street.... "No... No more... No mas..." A heaving sea of air hammers in the purple brown dusk tainted with rotten metal smell of sewer gas... young worker faces vibrating out of focus in yellow halos of carbide lanterns... broken pipes exposed.... "They are rebuilding the City." Lee nodded absently.... "Yes... Always..." Either way is a bad move to The East Wing.. If I knew I'd be glad to tell you.... "No good... no bueno... hustling myself...." "No glot... C'lom Fliday" Tangier, 1959. |
