The peaks of perversion are never
going to be reached,
don’t worry, children love adventure,
your neighbor too,
god calls for massage on Friday, the
ocean is your only
escape, women cry rape, men listen, the aids industry
thrives, so does everyone around it,
call the dealer, get
a packet, and fast, my nose is
bleeding, so is my head,
so is your heart, everyone is dead,
satisfied or do you
need to see a certificate, it’s in
the manual sir,
blast!.. !.
Harry rubbed his forehead, unable to cope
with the rush, his toes tingling, all
the way across his
back, over his shoulders, till his
head lifted off
almost, my god he thought, shuddering
all over. The joint
quickly died. Stubbing it into the
desk, he wondered
if he deserved the resurrection of a
fresh one or what
was it that was on his mind so
recently. The Palestinian
issue had been dealt with, god should
have been in
politics, I hate that, god I’m
getting old, we’re all
getting old, but harry was getting
older quicker he felt,
as he was forgetting things, the
bleddy coffee he sighed
..a bath..yahoo he screamed
exhibiting a roar that would
terrorize a muslim. Yes, a baptism he
thought, why not
both he laughed, thinking out loud,
I’ll ban religion and
make it even more popular. You can’t
have that. He began
to yawn all of a sudden, his mental
state crumbling
apart. His eyes were opening closing,
fluttering in
disarray. Rest, was the answer, a
bath and he could have
it all, yes, warm foamy liquid, he’d
relax, sleep
perhaps, no one ever drowned in a
bath. Many were killed
in them though. On his feet, he
wobbled over to the edge
of the tub, turning on the hot he
winched slightly,
plenty of it he thought, adding some
cold. It’d take five
minutes to reach drowning point, six
inches deep. Damn it
he thought, just when he was getting
organized, he’d
forgot the final ingredient to his
afternoon caper, a
bath fellow as he called it, a
slender joint, well
rolled, not hard, but robust enough
to last the course,
yet loose enough to allow plenty of
fresh air. If I was
Cuban I’d roll it on the thigh of a
virgin and not get
arrested. The makings were on the
table. The bedroom
would be warmer. You can do this he
fumed, slapping
himself across the face, shit that
hurt he thought, sober
a few moments, his mental
determination as acute as a
hard on in a nudist colony. Harry was
awake mentally.
He slapped himself hard again, it
hurt even more, but it
Shook him even more.
aharry
Jesus, what’s going, every where he
looked, a window was
open. He couldn’t decide, the best
place to make the bath
joint. Going into the bedroom, he sat
down on the side of
the bed, his head in his arms, head
going down and down.
Will I or won’t I he thought, roll
that joint.
"jesus christ" he yelled.
He raced into the bathroom. His
heart thumping furiously. The bath
water was half full,
the ship hadn’t sunk, and there was
plenty of hot water
left. Shock woke him further. Five
minutes later, he was
all calm again, lying in it, a
smoking joint in one
hand,
a glass of water in the other, Balance he thought,
perfect balance, like the perfect
woman, just be he
smiled.
Each sip of water was followed with a
suck, till
all there was left was a butt.
Flicking it accurately
into the toilet bowl he began to play
with himself. His
manhood though, looked a wet
shriveled mesh of hair and
flesh, there was no response. He
twiddled with the water
instead, palming it playfully over
his chest. He then
began immersing his head in and out
of the water as
playfully as a dolphin. Fish he
sighed, wondering what it
was like to be a fish these days,
very disappointing. To
have your home turned into an
international sewage
treatment plant, it’s happening locally,
smell the air he
thought sucking it in, the open
windows allowing for
endless waves of fuel injected air to
enter his space,
lovely he thought, the sweet whiff of
chemicals blended
with monoxides, good. But did it
matter he wondered, the
water silent, harry still. It
mattered to the him that
moment, water quality, getting worse
everywhere, full of
shit. But they have tablets for that
too he yawned. He
sat up all of a sudden, water cascading
down his body,
least your not a fish otherwise, otherwise
he smiled
thinking quietly, getting serious with
himself. As ever
the phone intervened, like it was
trying to disturb him.
Damn it, I'll let it go, they'll call
back, everyone is
lonely, The phone kept on ringing
though, annoying him
for a good two minutes. It was time
to begin a personal
manicure. Two minutes and six dunks later
his hair was
washed, and clean of all traces of
sud. His hairdresser
recommended conditioner to him the
last time he got his
hair trimmed. Now he had a
predicament. Feel like a
woman, the bob Dylan song entered his
head all of a
sudden. Not that he felt he needed to
feel a woman, he’d
have felt the first one available
anyway, but he felt
like a woman all the same.
He didn’t have that album in his
collection he recalled,
he’d buy it for himself for christmas
he promised once he
sorted out the problem starring him
in the face,
shopping, choosing was shopping, if
not shocking
sometimes. The array of bottles to
the side of the bath,
she couldn’t need them all he
thought, maybe she mixes
them he sighed shaking his head at
the chemical
concoctions, all in very colorful
bottles, herbal, ying
yang, normal, everyday use, coloured,
must be for black
people, all conditioners, he read the
labels, dry hair,
normal, greasy and super greasy to
choose from. She must
have had lots of men friends, all
bathers too. He
pondered the choices. Just like a
woman, he knew what bob
meant now!.
His hair, obviously wasn’t dry, so
that was out. Which
one did lainey recommend, but her
hair had been dyed so
often he thought, she was a natural
what. For a second
he was normal, just his hair.
Squirting a creamy blob
into his hand, he began to massage it
into his head.
Telesales agents, should be banned he
howled, once he
heard the phone come alive, again.
Not now he screamed,
I’m not doing interviews. For a
moment he thought it
might be her. It stopped then rang
again. Down and up,
his head was immersed in the water
for a nanosecond.
Leaving a watery trail in his wake,
he reached the phone
just as the caller gave up. They'll
ring back he sighed
with a shrug of the shoulders, always
do. Out of the
bath, there was no point getting back
in, condition or
not. Drying himself off, that was a
bath he thought, as
if he’d never had one before.
“I bet he’s gone for a walk, he walks
then writes, it’s
an inspiration thing!” she told
herself. She’d have to
surprise him at home instead, they’d
given her a raise
plus a promotion, just as harry said
they would. She
wanted to thank him. Holding the
phone in her hand,
she pondered. Was he worth it she
thought, of course she
assured herself, smacking the phone
down. Decision made,
she was going home early, to the man
waiting for her!.
*********************************************************
Dope makes you dopey he thought. Your
thinking, so don’t
worry. He wondered if snow white and
dopey, of the seven
dwarfs fame ever smoked. No, he
Concluded, that was a
fairy tale, make belief. Besides a
good looking woman
would have no time for a dude that
only reached her
navel, unless he’d lots of money. Seated
on the bed,
felt so comfortable too, but he
couldn’t sleep, speech
he thought, speech, she likes me
reading her stories in
bed and you like it too he thought,
meaning himself. But
sleep, five minute power nap that’s
all, his eyes
beginning to dictate to him, five
minutes that’s all,
five harry, remember. Crumpling down
on the bunch of
pillows, he hooked the loose covers
over himself,
five minutes he promised. Should have
done this sooner he
sighed, grabbing the duvet tight
around him, five minutes
five minutes, have to write it, have
to write he thought.
Fully asleep he was free to roam
around his dreams
uncontested or disturbed. Grabbing
and groping with
thoughts and revelations of every
sort, he wandered and
wandered. Perhaps he was always on
the verge of a nervous
breakdown. In the asylum, they’d
consider that normal. He
shook in the bed, delving, going in
and out of scene
after scene, seeking answers to
issues that disturbed him
when awake. Millions of darkened
bellies, all empty,
what an advertising nightmare for a
food company, lots of
hungry people with no money to spend.
Food parcels, He
smiled to himself, going further into
his dream, they
were all alive, they were just
dieting. They could always
ring the yellow pages and get a pizza
home delivery. He
wondered if DHL delivered food apart
from computer parts.
He muttered words, twisted in the bed.
A towel that was
wrapped around his damp head, was now
strewn on the
ground. Evil, must first get to know
it intimately, he
smiled, smiled big. A Jesus truck had
arrived with a
bread van inside it, did the feed the
world trick,
without the need for personal appearance
money.
Harry laughed, every story had to
have a happy
ending. As for Noah, he was really a
math professor who
couldn't count beyond two. Harry
laughed again, turning
in the bed as he did, still in a
state.
She hit him full blast across the
face, shattering the
glass dream he was in. He opened one
eye, then the other.
The side of his face hurt, why so, he
wasn't sure. She
came into focus, the angry expression
on her face was all
he saw. What time was it he thought,
acting and looking
stupid.
"you've been at it, you, jesus,
can I ever trust
you!”. She wore a heavy scowl too.
Harry rubbed his face very firmly,
from the forehead
down, feeling with his fingers, the
crevices and sockets,
it was still there.
"jesus I'm alive, you wouldn't
believe what happened me".
She lit a cigarette and sat down
beside him, rubbing his
cheek with her free hand.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you!” she
sighed.
“thanks!” he replied sitting up,
sober with shock.
"twisting and turning, I thought
you were on LSD
or something, what are you like, and
no speech either
I suppose!”.
She passed him her cigarette, he
tried his best to
explain. I was just bathing in future
dreams he sighed.
