That Night, His Bodily Fluids Sprayed All Over Me (XXII, XXIII)

2007/9/1 11:15:02

XXII

Where the wind has blown, there are not necessarily no grape skins—much less necessarily no him, who was once grape-skinned by grape skins.

Enormous windmills told ancient stories, having nothing to do with Iberia.

The flowing road, buried in the sand-sea of death. Clouds phantasmed in the sky above; star-corpses were interred beyond the sky.

The world caged like the world, the world mundane like the world, the world chaotic like the world.

The world's fluids erupted in a worldly manner—sun, moon, stars, men, gods, ghosts, beasts.

The copulating world orgied toward climax. Where grapes once grew, grapes grew no more. The wind still blew.

Seven trees on the ridge, seven graves by the river. Where wind and smoke arose, green water without a ripple.

XXIII

Outside the window, a sky without wind or smoke—the moon at its zenith.

The old man from Iberia was locked in battle on the Apennine oval rotating glass table.

The Dingle linen pillow was wreathed in smoke.

That point of red—a demon eye, flickering. On the screen, images and sounds from the Peninsula flickered.

"Not asleep yet? It's very late in China."

"That bastard Bush won't let me sleep."

"This time he's placed a massive bet, invested serious capital."

"Waterlogged brain? What bet, what capital does that bastard have? Cannon fodder for others, glory for himself—that bastard couldn't hold it in any longer."

"Public opinion supports him."

"A few hot dogs and their brains go hot-dog? Bullshit public opinion. Can't demand be manufactured? When they want you as cannon fodder, that bastard can fabricate ten thousand reasons to make you charge forth in ecstasy, addicted to it."

"You're too extreme. This is a democracy. It's not a one-person show."

"Without being democracied, where does democracy come from? A democratic country is one that nation-izes you, democracy-izes you, and you still charge forth in ecstasy, addicted. If you love being violated by that bastard and becoming a grandson's grandson, go ahead. Nobody's stopping you."

"Let's drop it. I have a concert tomorrow. Need to rehearse, prepare for the performance."

"Go ahead, be busy."

In the ears, Valkyries were soaring; before the eyes, clouds mushroomed the sky.