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sex encounterTo Kurt Lee's previous piece     tranquillisimo in nine partsTo Kurt Lee's next piece

dedicated to nicholas morgan

the hazel toothed wind had subsided and the power was off
trees down, listening to the radio all night
some guy dead when a tree branch crashes through his windshield
head sounds, asleep
feel ok
hazy eyed and blindless i walk call the elevator
and go downstairs out into the fish smelling night
fog abounds rolling in thick coils off ruddy shiny street
traffic is dead as i walk up the streets
past gas stations, the local swensons, grocery stores, acme
still drunk
usually never leave the house drunk
jaywalk to the abandoned lot behind dairy queen
can see him already
asleep in the old van
no doors
closer examination reveals
a heroin syringe hanging out of one arm
wild irish rose quart bottle filled with piss
sitting on the ground outside the van
his hair is wet and his face is red
hes a skeleton
poke him with the bottle of piss
then fling it across the yard
he stirs awake
did you hear the storm last night?
there was a storm?
your lots half flooded
i dont remember it
sit in his van, and lay down on my back
your dick is bleeding
he looks down at his cock
his pants are at his ankles
where did you get the money for that
gesture to the syringe
you cant afford cigarettes
gimme a cigarette kurt
hand one over
some guy paid me 20$ if i would slice my cock up with a piece of broken glass
and he could watch
look over at him holding his frail cock by the head
examining the cuts
hey kurt, can i borrow some money?

let me tell you about
i dont know any history of this town other than what i was shown
im too poor to move, and dropped out of school
at a very young age
people tend to come to this burnt out shit hole in expensive cars
flaunting themselves
and leave very quickly
the crack problem is so bad
that everyones paid off
judges, cops, everyone
im the only one i know who doesnt use
manage a convenience mart on randalls avenue
have no employees
police around here just arrest anyone for random reasons
and sell drugs
its americas dirty little secret
somebody has fucked up

i remember when i was in school, they would hire people for a day or so, who would come in and select a child
to "tutor" the children were petrified, but were taken away by their tutor to a private room
where the teaching would ensue. it usually involved an hour or so of groping, and eventually rape.
i remember when the man i had been with had tried to force his cock up my ass, i ran, and thats when i dropped out.
as far as i know, all the young children in the streets smoking crack has informed me that this system is still going on.
parents are so strung out that they dont care, or can be easily paid off.

i was late for work, but it could wait
i didnt get much business anyway, other than people buying cigarettes or trying to rob me
they never get anything, i send my earnings up a windpipe directly to my apartment where its kept in a trunk
i never spend much anyway, other than on cigarettes, beer or food, which i get from myself.
but i had to check on "harley
an obese addict that lived in a hole in peking park
i walked fast, made my way to his hole in the world
past children, bodies dead or mutilated in the street
men cutting themselves, or blowing cracksmoke into their emaciated faces
i found him, close by his hole
naked, laying with his guts in his hands
what happened to you?
he told me if i knifed myself he would let me hit
why did you cut so deep?
it felt so good...
he reaches into his guts and pulls out a handful, offering them to me
i bend down, and take a deep bite
walking away
much the same way i came.

please stand, judge venus dixon presiding!
we all stand, misfits
please be seated.
i call jeremy s. junior to the stand.
so, what have you been doing?
jeremys drug test tested positive for crack cocaine, even though hes been through the corrective treatments.
jeremy we have given you ample time to correct yourself but our efforts have been fruitless.
i am forced to send you to jail.
please dont, i have children
all the more reason why you should be in jail.
i call caroline d. to the stand
she sent her child out at three AM to buy crack for her.
is this true?
she nods.
youre really messed up, you need to get cleaned up.
the cops take her, as she weeps, into custody.
the crack addicted audience applauds.
micheal c. we call you to the stand.
so, micheal has been drinking!
what do you want for christmas micheal?
to be left alone.
im sorry micheal! for christmas, your going to jail!
be sure to take this k-y jelly with you!
she tosses him a tube, and laughs
the crack addicted audience applauds
ok! moving right along
we call aaron d. to the stand.
and aaron has been smoking!
his mother begins to cry
aaron, all crack will do is ruin your life.
why do you persist in its usage?
im sick...
im glad your starting to realize that!
and now you get to go to jail.
maybe you should have stopped when you had the chance.
time passes, many are sent to jail for drug use.
the judge stands, walks into her office
pulls out a crack pipe, lights up

by the time i arrive at work, too many people have coagulated
i whip out my pistol and fire a few warning shots into the air
they dissipate and i walk inside the store
minutes later the orders arrive, just on time
dairy, booze, cigarettes, canned goods
spot the order, and get to stocking
can you loan me a pack of cigarettes
pull my gun
get the fuck out
he leaves
back to stocking
selects beer, cigarettes, pays
where do you live
just near the park, in a turned over garbage can with with word fag 
spraypainted on it
he pays, he leaves
make a note to visit him, and the cash flies up the valve into my room above the store
two men burst in and see no one, so begin to steal, i hide behind the shelf pointing the gun upwards
they move to the register, and when the first leans over, i shoot him in the skull knocking his brain and skull all
over the ceiling
leap over the register and put two shells into his stoned buddy
close the store to clean up the mess
8 dollars tonight, a great sum.
drag the bodies out into the street, where theyll be crushed by the streetsweeper in the morning

so what do you want
i want it
you want it?
will you do what i say? your pregnant.
ill do it, i promise
then youll get what you want
take this
he hands her a strait razor
she takes it trepidatiously
what should i do with it
gut yourself
i cant
he dangles a bag of rocks before her eyes
its all yours if you do what i say
two men watch him at his side, occasionally lighting up
but first, expose your stomach
she takes off her shirt
her breasts sag, heavy with milk
now i want you to gut yourself
cut deep and you can have this whole bag
she sighs
and digs the blade
into her pregnant belly, cutting a 10 inch gash into herself
she falls over crying
pull out your baby and you can have this whole brick
she cuts harder
until her gut deflates into her hands
water broken through her own self
he bends over her and reaches into her body
pulling out her fetus
small, malformed
it whimpers a moment, frail
reaches to the dealer a second, then goes limp
drops it, wheezes a moment
slips into a eternal sleep
take her out and dump her in the street

someone called me at 3am
who is it? david.
bail is 300$ will you bail me out?
want to, i do
say yes, walk down to the police station, after tapping funds
walk in, here to bail out david
they lead me down the walk of shame
cells filled with blood and shit
madmen, driven insane by their addiction
men chew the bars
men bash their heads against the walls
blood drips down
weeping men lying in piles of semen
jacking off flaccid cocks in corners of rooms
hoping for some parody of a high
men chewing the bars of their doors
men licking the floors
men trying to drown themselves in the toilets
men ripping at their own flesh with their fingers
tearing their legs and guts open
cops oblivious
davids cell
david in the corner, afraid
david im here to bail you out
because you called
theyll just put me back in again...
im hear to save you
i cant be saved
he stands on his toilet
get him down, cops
door is opened,
but he leaps too soon
and i watch him quiver hopelessly in mid air a moment
before his throat is slashed
by the tiny wire
attached to him
the cops escort me out
kicking me in the ass
as i leave
into the street

walk up the terrace smoking a cigarette
factory smoke curls up over the frigid morning in ominous festoons in the pink and white
walk down stairs, past street sweepers, past vandalized buildings, parked cars,
sleeping bodies
notice steam rising from a body clad in a black trenchcoat and kneel down to investigate
opening the jacket
its a knife wound
he is beaten badly, his eyes cut out, his genitals carved out of his body and laying
in slivers on the pavement
a gaping hole in the nape of his legs
the man winces and looks at me
help me
need one last hit before i die, then i need to confess my sins
he writhes, cries
take it out of my pocket, lower left pocket
i do so, and hold it to his lips
put in a rock and light it with my cigarette lighter
he takes and long pull and exhales a mushroom cloud of chrome diesel smoke
that makes me gag
his lower lip quivers as he prepares to speak

"i had a lots and lots of money, inheritance from a grandparent, and lived here in
emmetsville, in a small house. i didnt need employment. i sat around drinking in darkness,
listening to crying babies in my head, and clock gongs going off, at all hours. one night
i awoke from a long binge to find in my arms a baby child. i didnt know where it came
from.i kept the child, raised it, and often went out at night, stealing babies, or buying
them, from crack whores, or young girls. as they matured, i would keep them tied in
my dirt floor basement, where i would feed them dogfood, kept them naked, and photographed
them, tacking the photographs to telephone poles, or in public restrooms, or leaving them
... on public tabletops. sometimes, in the pew at church, or id drop one in the collection
plate, while at a service... before my addiction began, and i began to smoke crack. slowly
my cash dwindled and i would go into frenzies. i grew a long beard, my teeth fell out, the
color drained from my eyes. into the basement i would go, with a plastic box cutter, and
cut the childrens bodies, and sodomize them, until they bled from their rectums. they
would often burst into fits of cacophony as i had taught none of them to talk, and would
scream random things at me as i beat and cut and raped them. their mouths were so damaged
that i could fuck them raw, as most of their jaws were broken.

my cigarette burns my fingers and a rope of drool descends from my lip onto the ice
cluttered sidewalk, i drop my cigarette butt and bite my lower lip. he takes my cold hand

their bodies were frail and mangled, and i began to drive nails into their skulls at random
places, sometimes piercing their cocks with nails, their ears, and i nailed their feet
to the floor, but the nails came undone. my binges were out of control, and one night
with a swift blow to the face one of the boys fetters came undone and he fell to the ground.
i was so high that i fell over a moment, and the boy ran from the house grunting and
shrieking and crying, dripping blood from his rectum and body and face, his broken jaw
hanging down, blood dripping down his skull and long clumped hair. he ran, 
panting and
insane and the first thing he did was kneel down and eat a pile of dogshit...
as he began to run, i was too drunk to pursue him fast... he ran through the city... when
a bunch of people saw us, they began to chase me as well... until it was a mob... they
overtook me *cough* carved my genitals out of my body... knifed me and beat me and hung me
from a streetlight... i just fell from...

what happened to the child?

hes... overthere...
*gestures to an alleyway

walked to the alleyway and peered in
frozen to the pavement was what looked to be once a child
on its crooked and shattered face was an imbecilic grin
it was a parody of a human being
head shaped like a bunch of grapes, coated in bruises and swells
torn misshapen rats nest of hair down to his ass
nails bent and crooked, jutting out of random places in his skull and his torso
a ghastly mural of mutilation
feet crooked and torn, and a molar lying on his chest
could see shitstains on his face, probably from the dog
whats your name!
call to the wounded molester
he shouts at me
go home, and gather a chisel from my apartment, and a hammer
returning to the child, i pound away at him for what seems like hours
lift him
and toss him into the dumpster

met an old man named timothy while walking home from work,
slow night
like most in the city he was a crackhead, but he worked at a factory
didnt ask me for money or try to mug me
instead we walked up the road
talking of platitudes
invited him back to my apartment, where i clicked on a classical rock 
and opened a beer
handed him one, he took a sip, and lit his pipe exhaling a coil
of purple ghost smoke into the room that was sucked and twisted by the 
his tone became darker as he spoke to me of what he believed to be a serial killer
patrolling the streets
timothy lived in the trailer of a truck
"hes out there, moving around in the dark, looking for his fix, patrolling the streets
wearing a beaked leather mask full of rose petals. back when there was the black plague,
they wore those. he carries a long silver revolver, with special exploding bullets... he taps
a knife into the tips of the bullets with a hammer, making a little x on the tip of the
bullet? he finds a victim, and shoots them, out of the blue, dragging their body if theyre
still alive into somewhere no one can see him, or so he thinks. then he takes out his cock
and fucks the bulletwound until the person dies, and he leaves them there. i caught him
doing it once, right on the corner of fistwood and charcoal. he saw me, and fired a shot at
me, nicking my face, but i ran, far and long... until i was safe... you better be careful
walking around like that at night... ive found some of his victims on the street... they
dont look like crackheads... they all looked like you..."
glared at him and gritted my teeth
just what i needed
he got up and left after draining his beer and smiling. took my pistol out 
from under my bed, and cleaned it, while listening to the radio
and the sounds outside my window
gunshots, screams, anger, bottles shattering

when i got to my store the next day it was demolished
the windows were shattered, metal fencing broken, no police came
all my cigarettes and beer were gone, and the bottles were still there
heard movement in the back and pulled a hatchet out from under the counter
one man, picking over the spoils
ran at him screaming without a word
and hit him in the skull with the hatchet, the skull cracked like an egg and he fell to my
walked from the store, clutching the hatchet and shaking my head
was losing it

sat in my room that night
held my head in my hands and i babbled to myself
didnt have hardly no money to get out of here, i had nowhere to go
couldnt even go for a walk
sirens, i open my window and peer out, beer in one hand, cigarette in the other
it was the police, with a paddy wagon
they were rounding up the homeless, taking them all in
a steel bus pulls up and men and women and children are all forced into it
some protest, are beaten and some thrown half dead into the bus
the funeral procession proceeds
three dozen people, it looked like
scratch my head
where the fuck would they store everyone?

get drunk, pass out with the radio playing loudly
wake up to led zepplin, kashmir
walked into the street
it had turned cold fast, after the november rains
a few cars pass, a few people standing around, smoking
a lot quieter than before
made my way to the local precinct and asked to see someone
made up a name
im sorry sir hes not confined
after a confused look passes over my face
i walk away and approach the first passerby
did you see what happened last night?
yeah, the police arrested everyone on the street
stating a new curfew law
im personally glad they did that
but where the fuck can they store all those people!
that jail aint big enough for half the people that were already there!
i couldnt tell you
walk up the street, baffled, back to my room

i need a fix
come to my house
bring your children

what do you want me to do...
i want you to handcuff yourself to that dumpster
her children watch transfixed and shaking, confused
you want to hit you handcuff yourself to that dumpster
she does
now what
watch this
he hands each of her two children crackpipes
they light up, smoking it like pros
he blows cigarette smoke into her face and smiles
common children
takes her children in the car and drives off
woman screaming
she falls to her knees
she pulls and yanks at the handcuffs, violently
she kicks the dumpster, punches it, bashes her head against it over
and over
and over
a man leaps out of the dumpster and runs away
she yanks her arm with each word
more bashing of her head into the dumpster
grinds her teeth
shrieks her childrens names
passes out
arm dangling
she wakes up shivering
her whole body is numb
she punches the dumpster with her restrained fist over and over
until her fist is bloodied
she screams, inhuman bloodcurdles as she strikes
she yanks her crooked and broken mangled fist through the cuff
and runs into the street

it wasnt long before the streets were just as bad as they ever were
crackheads lined the pavement, and the old paint factory went out of business for lack
of help
a drunken man was lynched from a streetlight one morning after he wandered through the
streets brandishing a pistol and a bottle, shooting anyone he saw
was going to get out, had to get out
was going to become a dealer
save my cash and split when i had enough
cant take it anymore
head splitting
sounds in my head
tired all the time
running out of money
blood frozen on the streets
people dying
people disappearing
going into the jail and never coming out
no one will do anything about it
nowhere to turn
all my friends gone
store gone
walk into the street, and up into the crisp december sunrise, biting my lip

"i want to buy a lot
"how much is a lot
"i want a whole brick
pay me back fifty and come back for more
hand him over the cash
take the brick

spend an hour cutting it into rocks
with a razor blade
inserting the rocks into baggies
filling the pockets of my jacket
gun in pocket
i walk into the cold street
exhaling a plume of steam
from my lips
and wait
man approaches
"man i need some...
*thumbs nose

i wake up and touch my head
empty pockets
a crackpipe sits on my chest
take it and walk inside my apartment building
sit down on the bed
insert a rock
pipe to my lips
lighter to the tip of the pipe
starry, fucking night

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