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..." Frantic queen trying to claw sport jacket off depart- ing boy. "My two hundred dollar cashmere jacket," she screeches.... "So he has an affair with this Latah, he wants to domi- nate someone complete the silly old thing.... The Latah imitates all his expressions and mannerisms and simply sucks all the persona right out of him like a sinister ventriloquist's dummy.... 'You've taught me everything you are.... I need a new amigo.' And poor Bubu can't answer for himself, having no self left." JUNKY: "So there we are in this no-horse town strictly from cough syrup." PROFESSOR: "Coprophilia... gentlemen... might be termed the hurumph... redundant vice...." "Twenty years an artist in the blue movies and I never sink so low as fake an orgasm." "No good junky cunt hang up her unborn child.... Women are no good, kid." "I mean this dead level conscious sex,... Might as well take your old clothes to the Laundromat...." "And right in the heat of passion he says, 'Do you have an extra shoetree?' " "She tell me how forty Arabs drag her into a mosque and rape her presumably in sequence.... Though they're bad to push -- all right, end of the line, Ali. Really, my pets, most distasteful routine I ever listen to. I was after being raped myself by a pride of rampant bores." A group of sour Nationalists sits in front of the Sar- gasso sneering at the queens and jabbering in Arabic. ...Clem and Jody sweep in dressed like The Capitalist in a communist mural. CLEM: "We have come to feed on your backward- ness." JODY: "In the words of the Immortal Bard, to batten on these Moors." NATIONALIST: "Swine! Filth! Son of dogs! Don't you realize my people are hungry?" CLEM: "That's the way I like to see them." The Nationalist drops dead, poisoned by hate.... Dr. Benway rushes up: "Stand back everybody, give me air." He takes a blood sample. "Well, that's all I can do. When you gotta go you gotta go." The traveling queer Christmas tree burns bright on the rubbish heaps of home where boys jack off in the school toilet -- how many young spasms on that old oaken seat worn smooth as gold.... Sleep long in the valley of the Red River where cob- webs hang black windows and boy bones.... |
