Kerouac - whispers from the road - pt.1
I sit in a corner booth at The Matador Lounge, stale stink of cigarettes, cheap booze and shriveled spirits fills my lungs. A slimy burger with fries covered in green chili tries to do the same for my gut. Something sticky and yellow keeps trying to cling to the seat of my trousers. In the booth to the right of me, this broad talks about her seventh abortion and her swiss cheese uterus. She decided to rip the little shit out after she caught her man in bed with her mother. Abortion broad looks like she's pushing 50. I guess when you're on crank and feel like superman, any piece of ass is doable. Brings back memories of far gone punk rock days when the world was mine and I ate Kryptonite like marshmallows. Driving down the coast to some fleabag dive for another night of teenage angst and self-righteous rage. Dames with 'get me the fuck out of dodge' twinkles in their eyes. Hoping another tight squeeze would guarantee them a seat on our beaten-up caravan of freedom. Knowing full well it was all a lie, just a cheap thrill with no fairy tale ending. I finger the scar on my wrist and smile. A small hello brings me back.
This cute little darling with blond hair and stained cheeks stands in front of me. Will I buy a chocolate from her? A dollar to make her light up like an X-mas tree. Sure thing. Doesn't strike me odd that this candy bar hustle is playing out in a shithole bar where drunks keep falling of their stools singing along to Tim McGraw on the jukebox. She goes over to the abortion broad. What the fuck is this for, she scolds. My school, little darling squeaks. I doubt it. That's when a putrid smell hits me, it's coming from the chocolate. I laugh. This old man in a cowboy hat frowns at me. He'd fit right in a Mike Myers flick, Fat Bastards ugly twin brother. I pay my check and head out.
The noon sun is way to bright and happy for my liking. I put my shades on and get in my truck. Another blond darling comes to my window and shoots me with her plastic ray gun. She laughs hysterically and runs away to a parked station wagon. A family of candy bar grifters catching some z's while the cutie inside does her thing.
I'm off to Magdalena and a diner with the best homemade cherry crumb pie this side of the Rio Grande. The dame who runs it is married to the town Sheriff, a tough son-of-bitch whose hide was saved on more than one occasion by my old man. He'll be happy to see my skinny mug. Their daughter, a former pageant winner and also former sweetheart of mine, is getting hitched in a few days. Another one with fairy tale dreams. Still, I'm happy for her. She was always nice to me, so fuck it I root for her. Looks like I might end up in Sin City after all.
As for you, my dear City of Angels, your blackheart caress feels so distant now.
This cute little darling with blond hair and stained cheeks stands in front of me. Will I buy a chocolate from her? A dollar to make her light up like an X-mas tree. Sure thing. Doesn't strike me odd that this candy bar hustle is playing out in a shithole bar where drunks keep falling of their stools singing along to Tim McGraw on the jukebox. She goes over to the abortion broad. What the fuck is this for, she scolds. My school, little darling squeaks. I doubt it. That's when a putrid smell hits me, it's coming from the chocolate. I laugh. This old man in a cowboy hat frowns at me. He'd fit right in a Mike Myers flick, Fat Bastards ugly twin brother. I pay my check and head out.
The noon sun is way to bright and happy for my liking. I put my shades on and get in my truck. Another blond darling comes to my window and shoots me with her plastic ray gun. She laughs hysterically and runs away to a parked station wagon. A family of candy bar grifters catching some z's while the cutie inside does her thing.
I'm off to Magdalena and a diner with the best homemade cherry crumb pie this side of the Rio Grande. The dame who runs it is married to the town Sheriff, a tough son-of-bitch whose hide was saved on more than one occasion by my old man. He'll be happy to see my skinny mug. Their daughter, a former pageant winner and also former sweetheart of mine, is getting hitched in a few days. Another one with fairy tale dreams. Still, I'm happy for her. She was always nice to me, so fuck it I root for her. Looks like I might end up in Sin City after all.
As for you, my dear City of Angels, your blackheart caress feels so distant now.