A meeting. The men discontent. Crowded around Thomas. His orange tights, orange boots, silver belt buckle with rubies, white Sabatini shirt. His clear and true gold-rimmed spectacles. Complaints of the men: (1) Quality of the pemmican (2) That the leadership better fed, in general, than the rank and file (3) That the cable was cutting into shoulders and where were promised heavy canvas gloves? (4) Edmund (5) The rum ration could be doubled without damaging the high regard in which the rank and file held the leadership (6) What plan for dealing with possibly hostile Wends? (7) Attention of the women monopolized by the leadership (8) Edmund (9) Couldnt the women just come and talk to them sometimes? (10) That the Dead Father sometimes dead weight, sometimes live weight, variations made feasance more difficult than strictly necessary, see contract provisions D, E, and F (11) Truncation of the pornographic film and what had happened next? (12) What of wholly arbitrary and ill-considered ban on fraternization with locals in territories hayfooted/straw-footed through? (13) Nonexistence of chaplain (14) Happy birthday. It is my birthday? Thomas exclaims, astonished. Yes, men reply, todays the day, where is the party? Thomas counting on his fingers. The men watch. Yes it is my birthday, he says at length, God damn it, you are right as rain. General heehaw, battering of Thomass back, Edmund whisks flask from hip, tilts. The Dead Father sitting in the road looking off into the far distance where fields of garlic grow. Thomas removes flask from Edmunds mouth. Julie practicing harmonica, tune "Oh, Give Me a Home Where the Buffalo Roam." Emma gazing at immense shoulder of Dead Father, speculatively. Thomas begins to answer complaints point by point. Pemmican good for you, he says. Etc. Julie puts away mouth organ, moves to side of Emma.
Give you a shirtful of sore tit.
Give you a fret in the gizzard.
I tried to tell you but you wouldnt listen.
Think Im getting nosebleed.
Ways of dealing with them when they dont want you.
Friendship is difficult at best.
People are frightened.
They disagree with me regularly but are not disloyal to me.
Said there were various ways of handling it but I thought I could keep the lid on.
Wake up one dark night with a thumb in your eye.
Strung out like that along the hedges.
Colder weather coming and then warmer.
Since you have not as yet responded to my suggestion.
Matter of paring down to a supportable minimum.
Throw a little shit into the game.
Always darkest just before the dawn.
Take it any way you like it.
Stop being petty, stop trying to cut each others throat.
If I pop one will you pop one?
I mean when youre feeling bad youre glad to be alive.
What is the motivation?
I cant remember.
At other times unconscious in the street.
How did that make you feel?
Intolerably angry for short periods.
Feeling is whats important.
You can lose confidence in your own experiences.
Various circumstances requiring my attention.
Something trembling in the balance.
Where can a body get a hit around here?
Its all been carefully considered.
Have you tried any of the others?
I just see whether theyre friendly or unfriendly.
A week later she applied for a post in Warsaw.
As a wet nurse.
Yes, as a wet nurse. She was accepted.
They like to suck.
They do like to suck.
Worn out your welcome.
Getting very fond of you and your hands.
Thats my business.
Hes not bad-looking.
Its no mystery.
Why hasnt anyone had the simple decency?
Its perfectly obvious.
Probably we should have spoken up before this.
Thats one way of looking at it.
Unable to take him seriously at any level.
Where can a body get a spritz around here?
Thats my business.
If I pull this little white string, will you explode?
Thats my business.
Then he sobs, and faints.
Does it hurt?
I can make it hot for you.
Learning to put the world together.
The white vase holding the marigolds had fallen to the floor.
The bathtub proved impossible to smash although I tried.
God knows you tried.
God knows I tried.
Dark hair across the pillow.
I can do anything when its not important.
Very busy making the arrangements.
Will it hurt?
Large piece of white plaster fell off the wall then.
What were we eating?
Cold rolled veal.
Did we have a good time?
Scrumptious.
Will it rain again again?
Something is wrong.
You must have studied English.
The waiter was listening.
Like trying to digest a saddle.
Wake up one dark night with a kiss in your eye.
That was in Barcelona. Rounded up as a work-shy element.
Much cry and little wool.
Ready again to send his Son to die for us.
Like sending a hired substitute to the war.
I rehearsed the argument with him.
Until the scaring bell rang.
What?
Until the scaring bell rang.
What?
Spiritual aridity which was quite hard to reconcile with his surface gaiety.
In a symbiotic hug resembling that which obtains between pigeons and old ladies with bread crumbs.
Did you find the scene disgusting?
Im not into disgust.
Thought I heard a dog barking.
Reels of 16-mm. film each with a photograph on the box suggesting the particular motif or specialty.
Until the scaring bell rang.
What?
Remembering, leaving, returning, staying.
Two is one too many.
Slept with a man once it was a very pleasant experience.
Where the buffalo roam.
In a bed.
Time to go.
No its not.
Hair on it.
No it hasnt.
Have you tried any of the others?
Havent made up my mind.
Dog-Whipping Day. Eighteenth of October.
I tried to tell you but you wouldnt listen.
What?
Simple, honest, generous feelings.
Thats one way of looking at it.
Self-respect.
Yes Ive had self-respect.
Yes Ive had self-respect too its a very good thing self-respect.
Yes Ive had self-respect for a very long time.
Yes Ive had it for a very long time too.
Yes I can take it or leave it.
Yes once youve had it for a very long time it doesnt make much difference any more.
You questioning my value system?
Not me.
You questioning what I swear by?
Not me I dont give a rats ass.
A little forest or a night of dancing.
You can bank on it.
Perhaps its medical.
Sometimes he smells medical.
Nobody ever died of it.
Ive heard that.
Elegant way of putting chairs here and there.
A lady always does.
Any artist will do. Chewing red candy hearts.
And the myriad flower stalls with their bursting sun-dapple. . . of the rainbow. . . good God. I read about it. In Die Welt.