Every
two weeks Jimmy drove across town for business that was the fault of the Pope.
The hotel room as usual, his mistress
as usual, the sex. As usual.
"How's
the dispensation coming along?" she asked as she got dressed.
"Not
a word from
"Another year. That's twenty-six fortnights."
"Your
math is as good as ever."
"The Hell with you, Jimmy."
No-one
ever knew why the Pope had done it, at least not in any language other than
Latin. He said, "The gist of it is, if you have an extramarital affair
that lasts for over ten years, you have to consider that a kind of a second
marriage. Therefore, you have to be marital with that person every two weeks so
long as you both shall live."
His
mistress has something more to say. She said, "Does it have to be the same
hotel room all the time?"
"What's
wrong with the hotel room?"
"Same thing over and over
again."
"The same thing over and over
again."
"That's
what I said."
"That's
what I repeated."
"This
is getting us nowhere."
"Yes,
this is getting us nowhere."
"Two
weeks."
"Two
weeks."
*
How
many days were they out there, up from
A
Sgt came up to say to Moses, "They're getting restless again."
"Oh, for Pete's sake!" Moses hurried off to the crowd before
the Sgt had time to ask who Pete was.
Moses
shouted to the crowd, "Okay, what is it this time?"
One
man yelled out, "We were at the
"Salt? What for?"
"Manna
is bland!"
One
woman yelled out, "Salt's the prince of spices!"
"Is
that what you've all got to complain about? I led you up out of slavery!"
"Slavery
was better than this!"
A
second man shouted, "Two meals a day there was!"
"You
stiff-necked.... You're going to get you own land!"
The
woman shouted, "What do I know about land? I make bricks!"
"You
can, you can trade the bricks!"
"What,
there's going to be an eternal building boom?"
Moses
threw up his hands and blessed his people. He went back to his tent. The Sgt
snickered. Moses said, "Go away."
*
The
Confession was over. He was cleansed of sin. It was time to move on.
Sitting
by an open window during a rainstorm, he called his brother.
"I'm
all cleansed of sin, brother. Nothing can touch me now."
"Hold
on a minute there. You know you've wronged others. You have to say something to
them."
"Nope. I wasn't told anything about that. I
don't have to confess to anyone, brother."
"You
don't have to go to the cops. That's not what I'm saying. I said you have to
apologize to people for your crappy behaviour."
"The
Priest didn't say anything about that. So, I'm off the hook in that departmento. I feel all sobered up, you know? Confession's
good for you, see? You should try it."
"You're
getting off topic there. Is this call a gloat of yours? No
way, man. It's pride that's talking on this wire."
"Hell, no! Don't harsh me like that."
"The
Priest made an error. You have to apologize, again, for your crappy
behaviour."
"Not
true. How can a Priest make an error? Aren't they infallible?"
"They're
not infallible."
"Sure
they are! They're the moons and stars."
And
that's when the lightning bolt struck him.
*
Burn the witch
Metropolis
where they got that actress all caught up and they;tr
burning he to daeath--iÈm
drunk no w abd lsitending
to some scott walker record for no reson but why did the robot come into itÉ
Ah fouck thr wohole ilea of thr connection betweenn th e head thaand the hand being the hear t i
think it ès all the ida of
liberty fraternity eqyual iyt thatès lall its about for iève said somehwhere before thjat fraterity if in hte middle becuas e you canèt conneect liberty d equaliy
without frsthernoity how can you live without loving
your fellow man I cant; dsay Im
very good aty htat befocause Ièm misanthropic.
Tomorrow I;èss be with my
family to be giving thme a birthyday
party beaucause more or less my mother wants it and
at firsts I hasaid I thougthh
oit wal disgraceful to tun fifthy but I recomnnsiderd and agreed with it ll
because what des it saty about her for me to redfure something the wantd how
could aI be so nihilistic to hurt her in suck ah
way" I miust be grsacefull
and go off to the retausrant tokmorroew,
and everythingèll be peachy.
*
Morrine
Morrina, where you been so long, Morrine
Morrina, where you been so long, sang Pete in his head as he went into
the washroom white n' wet. The shower walls were damp, suggesting that one of
Maureen Marina's roommates had showered quite recently, probably twenty minutes
or so earlier; he'd met Maureen Marina, what, six hours ago?, this is one steamy bathroom, just at the
local place, just another Saturday night, and she'd never heard of the song so
he sang it out quietly at the time, Corrine
Corrina, where you been so long, and she laughed
never having known her name was so close to a pretty famous blues song. The
washroom air was wetness itself and Pete could see his reflection merely as a
dark cloud in the blue light of the walls as sweat ran freely down his February
face; Morrine Morri-,
interrupted by a wet cough that kind of choked him, as what appeared to be fog
came rising up in the room such that he couldn't see his feet; the doorknob was
too wet to turn; the water was up to his nose and he tippy-toed,
and he drowned without another word or sound.
*
Some
commotion was going on outside the shop. A gang of scraggly
youth, with bags and bags of stuff.
Henry
went outside, wiping his hands on his apron. "Here, you, what's all this
then?"
One
of the youngsters, in need of a good haircut, said, "Hey, geezer, we're
going to draw on your sidewalk. That okay wif
you?"
"It'll
drive away my customers, you lot blocking my door."
"But
it's art, sir," said another, turning out to be a
girl.
"Oh,
I don't want it, please no."
"'Ere, look at the plan."
Henry
looked. "Bathing beauties in a pool. What's it
for?"
"It's
going to be a trompe l'oeil
anamorphic representation. Stand in one place, and it'll look like it's
real."
"Bollocky hell, I don't want that at all."
Mr
Need-Haircut said, "Public property, man."
"What
will it cost me for you to not do
this?"
The
group gathered to seriously discuss. The girl came forward. "Twenty
quid."
Henry
handed over a twenty pound note. "There now.
Leave my nice sidewalky bit alone, right."
"Yes
sir."
They
then pulled out typed sheets.
"What
now?"
"We're
just going to read out some of our neo-vorticist
poetry, that's all right by you?"