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  He  has  a  Latin  handsome-smooth  face
with  a  pencil  line  mustache,  small black  eyes, blank
and greedy, undreaming insect eyes.
  When  I  get  to  the  frontier  the  Guard  rushes  out
of  his casita,  a mirror  in a  wooden frame  slung round
his neck. He is trying to get the mirror off  his neck....
This  has  never  happened  before,  that  anyone  reached
the  frontier.  The  Guard has  injured his  larynx taking
of  the  mirror  frame....  He has  lost his  voice.... He
opens  his  mouth,   you  can   see  the   tongue  jumping
around  inside.  The  smooth  blank  young  face  and  the
open  mouth  with  the  tongue   moving  inside   are  in-
credibly  hideous.  The  Guard  holds  up  his  hand.  His
whole  body  jerks  in  convulsive  negation.  I  go  over
and  unhook the  chain across  the road.  It falls  with a
clank  of  metal  on  stone.  I  walk  through.  The Guard
stands  there  in  the  mist  looking  after  me.  Then he
hooks the chain up again,  goes back  into the  casita and
starts plucking at his mustache.

  They  just  bring  so-called  lunch....   A  hard-boiled
egg with the  shell of  revealing an  object like  I never
seen  it  before.... A  very small  egg of  a yellow-brown
color...  Perhaps  laid   by  the   duck-billed  platypus.
The  orange  contained  a  huge   worm  and   very  little
else.... He really got there firstest with  the mostest....
In  Egypt  is  a  worm  gets into  your kidneys  and grows
to  an  enormous  size.  Ultimately the  kidney is  just a
thin  shell  around  the  worm.  Intrepid  gourmets esteem
the  flesh  of  The  Worm above  all other  delicacies. It
is  said  to  be  unspeakably  toothsome...,  An Interzone
coroner  known  as  Autopsy  Ahmed  made  a  fortune traf-
ficking The Worm.
  The  French  school   is  opposite   my  window   and  I
dig  the  boys  with my  eight-power field  glasses.... So
close  I  could  reach  out and  touch them....  They wear
shorts....  I  can  see  the  goose-pimples on  their legs
in  the  cold  Spring  morning....  I  project  myself out
through the glasses and across the street, a ghost  in the
morning sunlight, torn with disembodied lust.
  Did  I  ever tell  you about  the time  Marv and  me pay
two  Arab  kids  sixty  cents  to  watch  them  screw each
other? So I ask Marv, "Do you think they will do it?"
  And he says, "I think so. They are hungry."
  And I say, "That's the way I like to see them.
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