i break into stupid laughter towards the end of page thrity of the brief wondrous life of oscar wao. i look around me and everyone is chatting about who knows what. outside its Texas, im sitting in a cubicle in the Republica Dominicana. my energy drink is warm now and the spearmint gum makes it taste just as horrible. the occasional woman passes, gets the once over from me and my mind stays blank. i cant muster any thought but of -why would anyone wear six inch stilettos in a place that has no music, just a buzzing sound of technical support, suave salespeople, and non empathetic money collectors? in front of me, candy wrappers and wires, papers with a script that i have long since memorized in Spanish. towards the end of my eight hour shift i forget how to roll my rs and i sound like a drunk slurring my speech. outside in Texas the birds whistle love songs against the wind. a jazz tune, a song Davis by the river, blue entering my mind ordinary man he was found slouched over dead sweet Hollywood mourns border song river song bloody song misplaced shoes/empty bottles/torn stockings/red underwear/ ant piles/the ants are piled high/the shoes are lonely/water bottles have spit/ stockings, piss stained/underwear..red. dying crimson.
Posted on: Tue, 01 Apr 2014 03:58:25 +0000
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