Sunday, August 9, 2009

I hope Im not cold all day-- Woa-full desert lust and delirious depressive madness

Dried blood rested in his cuticles,it could look like anything,

in the fire it looked black, but Ben knew it was Blood.Ben saw

it before the sun set,before it turned black.

The week had started off with a day like any week, moday, and

it was atleast a cool one hundred degrees by 10 O'Clock. As was

the fashion for a man of his stature, Benjerman Hattock III

tipped a glass to the rising sun as he packed up his tent,

glancing up frequently to look at the town bellow. He didnt

need a pocket watch to tell it was time to go on down.

Benjerman Hatock III,Now I want to know where thu tails are.

Ben was straight faced and his bristle-bramble sonofabitch

thorn stalk mustache didnt flinch a godamn hair.

Down the road, right at the Shoe and Hat, youll see it, couple

fellows out front, one with a rifle, one with a handfull of

forms,wearin a hat.

Spoken as the Shopkeeps throat shook in fear.

it was a three minuete walk to the steps of the whore house.
And there they were.
The man with the rifle had bright blue eyes and his orange

beard was almost white,his hair was full of dust and would have

hung low if it wasnt pushed, or shoved back.He wore old Union

slacks and shoes that had also seen a war, shoes that had

stepped on loved ones, kicked brothers, and trudged through

discarded limbs in search of a better place, only to find

himself old and on the steps of awhore house, only to find the

dreams he once had of family, and of when he would smile, and

not only when matters were perverse.Shoes that walked proudly

for a nation, and were now stained with whiskey-vomit.His

parents were dead and they never knew he lasted the war.

The fellow with the hat was younger, and had a smart look to

him, his grin was crooked and he had a quill and desk,right on

the porch, which surley proved to Ben, this man is a crook.

Gotta have yer name Brother if your gonna be Kissin my Sisters

yehearme? 
and he laughs.

Ben let loose the three letters he really knew B-H-III and

droped the quill.

Play nice and dont fall too hard , they aint in it for yer

heart!
and he laughs.

The front room even stank of nudity and sweat.

Ben wanted nothing more than to find his girl and get into the

room.

There were people around him.

A very thin man with sweaty trousers and an undershirt sat

touching the knee of some quiet nervous but accomedating young

mexican girl with a white womans dress on her shoulders.

A few men sat together at a table near the right wall passing a

bottlearound and speaking loudly, all things began to spin

andeveryonesvoices

beacmeblured,BencouldnolongerdiscernallthesoundsGLASSESandDEEPB

ROWNWOODimages,utterconfusionSINGING--

as soon as every spinning sound was quiet, they were back, but

in order, and Ben sat opposite a miniature girl, with features

like that splashing milk, the curls and bends of its shape when

it flies outward, when a drop hits the floor, those soft round

edges, all of them,borne in this young woman, no, this girl.If

a throat could speak liquid hers would speak this white white

milk, so quiet.

its very nice to meet you...
her eyes widen.

Ben-n
He says with his lips but not his voice, the air sent from his

lungs to propell the name forth left his being but the sound,

the melody of his speach, never escaped.

Ben,my brother's dogs named Ben..
she laughs.

Ben looks at the floor, his face would never say what he was

thinking ,so fast and deeply,he wanted nothing more than to

talk to this girl, to say all the things he thinks in his days,

in his days on the plains, in his days stealling cattle, more

so in his days relaxing drunkly in the tall grass breathing

warm air and looking at the still illuminated but sunless

sky.In his days when smilling tears threatend to roll down his

face but are dammed by the tightness of his jaw, and his teeth.

Thinking of finding a soft girl to treat well and learning what

it feels like to love someone, but here in this room, that

resembled a shack amongst a stack of shacks,a chicken coop for

fucking, in the desert, all that would leave his throat was

air, and his nerves released how they always did, he pushed his

teeth together so hard his gums bled.

he took the love from her, all of it, he didnt remove his

boots, he quickly left,he quickly droped his bills on the

floor, and he slowly shut the door behind himself as not to

disturb the crying girl.He was never afraid of blood before.

Tonight ill set my tent up, tomarrow ill try to make some

money,I hope it isnt hot tomarrow, I hope im not cold all day.

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