Black Blood More black blood small droplets thru the pen-wound wound tight like jeans on a 3 dollar

hooker. What ? Howzat for lame similes ? There are no 3 dollar hookers anyway This aint 1950 an even then 3 dollars. fuckin on dirtfloors, on greasy mattresses crawling with bedbugs come out with a dose of something Indonesian junk going round. brought back by soldiers who blew their loads of cash and come in Jakarta alien sex fiends on the prowl old round eyes heavy jowls with fatty pricks half flaccid from shit beer and rice wine dirty circles of wan yellow light receding all-too-quickly into the night along a muddy city street strewn with dirty diapers, cigarette packs, dead elephant (whatever they are) waiting fifteen minutes seemed like an eternity too visible, exposed, must be up to no good somewhere far off a tinny radio bleating out that music a weird percussive banjo. but no sign of life here not even the customary rat too hot, too sweaty, too still thinks back to Iwo Jima, seasickness, the brig blows cigarette smoke an enormous cloud which seems to hang there for minutes searching for a way to wrap all this business up