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checking the pockets of the dead for some spare change it took me a while to get here but now I am here I am asking everyone for directions but no one knows the way everyone is lost billy the junkie says the sky never changes but I have seen nothing but change there are no solid things in this universe everything is a liquid and pop bottle allen is breathing in the laughing gas and telling billy the junkie to call him daddy I am questioning their faith in the power of words I accuse them of heresy of pretending to be a believer Nasty Jack is a wolf in sheep’s clothing he looks innocent enough but he will rip your throat out if given half a chance they are all muttering addicts trying to sell the morning paper to passing businessmen nasty jack flashes his insides to the ladies that walk by most run past nasty jack screaming in terror at the mere sight of him pop bottle allen is spinning webs of deceit and heartbreak for the street washers and the garbage collectors he tells them stories of when he traveled to the dark side of the moon the adventures of a modern Prometheus working for the dollar billy the junkie has on green eye shadow he had just put a way his dress but forgot to wash his face he is working the press in the back room of the laundry mat the boys are rolling nickels against the wall on the wall hangs a magic lantern a gun barrel tucked in his pants and the belief of revolution billy the junkie is wiping his mouth on his sleeve and adjusting his crotch as rose puts her load of clothes into the machine three little kids are playing on the dirty floor with an empty detergent box rose is not paying attention to the kids she is watching nasty jack bend reality his pants are open and a corpse is hanging from his fly rose thinks of thighs slapping and her ass checks jumping up as they bounce on the bed there is always time for idiot pleasure even in a busy housewife’s world a hose to wash her down before she packs up the station wagon and goes home to make supper for her abusive husband idiot smiles and more amber flesh ruptured spines tarot cards and Mickey mouse cartoons anther pack of cigarettes a bottle of five star whiskey an old tattoo of a cross the picture of jesus is tilted and the beads have all worn thin rose is naked and sullen pop bottle allen dropped his rusty black pants darting around the room for scraps soiled linen a special breed a vegetable body and his cock down her throat rose gurgles you are my boat her knees up to her chin a jelly donut a white striped t-shirt pubic hairs stale underwear pop bottle allen’s eyes pop out scar tissue open room the evil odors in the garbage can a shivering world sucked by three days work ejaculated and rose started rubbing billy the junky looking for the magic genie warring powers sacred cow she vowed to do her washing here every Saturday afternoon if the boys be willing and able to spurt out an irrigation ditch like hers shadows in the attic the cops banging on the door Tap is trying to hide the reefer rose smiles at the cocks hidden gallows twisting her over on her stomach down on the bed nasty jack found a piece of rope and tied back her hands rose lay there gasping and sucking in air billy the junky saddled her body billy rubbed the spit on his cock he placed his hands on rose pulled her apart he spit a little bit on her as he pulled her body up onto his cock rose gasped and moved with it soon she was kicking and screaming in spasms with slow pleasure along with the other charismatic intellectuals rose had a