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kicking you in the balls sandy blond hands tall as your dictator with toaster scars across his face he crossed Kennedy and walked into the McDonalds fished a syringe out of the toilet walked down to Jiffy Lube to bum a cigarette from mike the mechanic surrounded by the drifters and derelicts demure floral patterns once worn in pride I peeled off her dress with sticky fingers promising her hypnotism exotic psycho my fingers working her cunt guaranteed to be physical wide open fridge beer bottles cigarettes a quarter gram of crank incantation roast beef nation no mayonnaise an old dried up pickle all alone by itself on one shelf a half container of something that looked like puke the Buddha asks why throwing lunchmeat up into the light dead crispy bacon everyone is struggling to survive to cross over to the other side I’m fucking Betty Boop she is nine miles high and her cunt is a forest of tall evergreens she makes me think of Christmas it was wet like the river I think it may have started to rain I never sang for Betty I miss her now she has moved on into politics and now I can’t touch her without a ten foot pole she has handlers and security people and she keeps a pet tiger in her New York apartment several of my friends have gone missing I think she fed them to her tiger now she thinks she is brilliant because she is broke by the seventh race the bad guy pretending to be good freckle faced bags of weed hair in pigtails luxury and nihilistic tendencies to hell with your morality déjà vu her eyeballs shook her arms fluttered there were shades of narcissism under her fingernails this was war and I knew what I had to do Mr. Snow was laughing his ass off somewhere in the night there was a clip of eight shells one for each day and an extra for Sunday Frankie was always washing off his pecker I told him not to worry that Betty was the cleanest whore in Kansas City we picked her up at Westport in the dark house saloon she was sucking some guy at the bar we took a number drank four bottles of beer waiting for her to finish off the bar then we went to frankies house in independence he had pictures of Nixon taped up all over the wall he got pissed when betty used one of them to wipe the juice out of her crotch she put on her raincoat and stepped out into the mud to have a cigarette three thousand miles from home years later I met up with her in a hotel room in Keokuk Iowa she was born again and trying to save my soul I told her I no longer had the deed but I could use a little pussy if she didn’t mind at first she was telling me she was a changed woman that her heart belonged to Jesus and that she didn’t fuck anymore I knew better than that and eventually got her panties off and started rubbing her clit with my finger in no time she was all sloppy and as red as a beet she finally gave up and gave me what I wanted I loved the way she said Kansas City she said it like a junkie ready for the fix I was very lonely and had been traveling for a long time I stayed there for a month in Keokuk and played the drums for the church services the preacher’s daughter was giving me the eye so I gave her the purple throbbing devil in the women’s room at the church when everyone else was outside enjoying the Sunday picnic the way she straddled my cock I knew she was a common hustler and I was a haggard ghost somehow Betty found out about the preacher’s daughter and threw me out a great frenzy of miles with a hunger for booze October California everywhere America I have