« the bill collector | Main | ham hocks number in Juarez »
July 29, 2005
painting the young mare
lying with a pressurized earlobe on watermarked sheets of drool and sweat with Nicole nestled between my breastplate and armpit, flicking me with a hair tie. The jazz station has mutated and there is too much macho guitar filling this house and where is that crackle of scratched vinyl and the old negros strumming a warped six string with railroad fingers howlin at the bottle of moonlight on the kitchen table next to a sad and empty glass while his big legged woman lies on another mans bed...Nicole is wearing a baseball cap and is looking for the cigarettes that Id like to smash and crush into coffee grinds, now she is going to the corner store for you know what and would I like anything, yes something cold to drink and any girl that wants to fuck. And is that what I do, go to the store and find girls to bring back to fuck while she sweats for our rent money at the Ugly Dog, well yes of course but only the ones who dont smoke and goodbye now. She leaves me with the jazz and I wonder if the denver broncos are gonna be winners this year or just another cock tease like all those other jokers I root for only to end up long of face with no parades to miss...Nicole has eyes like a dove and she says that I fuck her like a whore but she doesnt get paid like one and isnt that how you like it I ask her other than the money that is...there are smoke rings wandering out of her mouth and she calls me outside to watch two geckos that are making time beneath our mailbox but there doesnt seem to be much action so I just snap a picture and go back to the couch sanctuary...theyre painting the house with the crooked porch and collapsing overhang at the end of the block she tells me and of course she is alluding to the fact that our house is the only one on the block that looks like it is a hundred and fifteen years old even though the other ones on this street are too, Those Mexican painters made sounds at me again, whenever youre not with me they do it and I say it was probably just spanish and theyre probably just simple laborers whove never seem breasts as unlikely as yours and are they still painting that house goddamn pink I ask and apparently they are, for reasons Id like to uncover with a backhand and then bury in the soggy infantile ground beyond the shed...I need to get a football shirt for work because football season is starting soon and Ill make more money on sundays if I wear one but I dont know which team to like. the broncos are the right way to go I tell her with a nervous ring in my chatterbox. Yeah the broncos, and on the back I can have it say 'I ride like a bronco' yeah! Yeah but you have an ass like a mule I tell her and now shes trying to claw my eyes out but only in a fun way and I make sure not to spill my raspberry tea on the orange couch, someone on the radio has a fine old girl in New Orleans and I suppose that I do too.
Posted by Drexler at July 29, 2005 03:02 PM