is Paradise —
— A bleakness I dont
like in air — dull
trees of Raleigh —
I feel forsaken —
Old goodhearted taxi-
driver to corner — Curious
Raleigh Judge-type
to corner —
Girls crossing — man
stops — Relief mgr
of restaurants —
Corn likker test, up
in Old Port — Mickey
Spillane, Faulkner —
Is going to rest finally at a
steady Maryland restaurant
— Then young kid in
old truck, married, who in
1946 hitched to Wash. State
with $500 & came back
with 21¢ — Then
incredible beat old car
with old fat bum, one
mile, incredible heat
from motor, incredibly
dirty shirt — Then
2 bleak eternal bakery
workers driving home dogtired
from work thru red clay
cuts of Time, with wine
faintly in gray western
horizon, beefing about work
— I thought “Why do
you want men to be
better or different than
this” — One talked, other
didnt; one urged, other
brooded; left me off
at truckstop road to
Greensboro N.C. — broke
$5 on coffee — “Dinning Room”
Tics of Eternity
called me buddy — good
hearted Charley Morrisettes
of Time — I must find
langue for them — frazzly
eager one & Charley Mew-
Leo Gorcey used-out legended
ripened-beyond sad fat one
— O Lord
Great big G.J. burper picked
me up in the rain, dark —
after I talked to old bum
(70) in railroad hat who
said country was worse off
than in 1906 (truckdriver
from Liberty Tex. to
Baton Rouge worried Mex,
called it “tarpolian”)
— GJ burper in new
huge Chrysler, was Chief
in Navy gun crews on Liberties,
also bought requisition
food (for Bainbridge Officers),
at North River wholesale
houses — ate 5 pound steak
— ate 2 lobsters
at Old Union Oyster House,
Boston — used to
screw redhead at 7 PM
on her beauty parlor couch —
used to beat up queers in
Washington — Drove me
into bloody Western horizon
beyond rain (!) into the
glittering Lowell town of
Greensboro, gave me card
Robt J Simmons Lily
Cup Corp. — to Salvation
Army — was only gym,
old Negro born in Hollywood
(“used to have a show
on the corner with my
sister & etc.”) directed
me accurately “That
Esso Sign, this side,
them real bright lights,
707 Bill bro St. —
bed & breakfast” —
Sho enuf — a little
ramshackle house —
dorm bedroom — man
was 50, thin, gray; Red
got up in undershirt —
to talk about routes
(“No sir, Winston Salem
to Charleston waste your
time, you in Charleston
& Bluefield & you in the
mountains” — hanging
bulb, table, pictures of
wanted criminals on
flowery wallpaper —
bathroom — “take
70 right on down the
river — ”) Tennessee
River, from Knoxville to
Nashville — rain
starts — go to bed
at 9 — no eat — talk
with Red an hour about
rolling, wandering, sleep
police stations, quit jobs,
drink whiskey, itch —
etc. — Dream all
night wild dreams of
big Chicago Salvation
Army with wild young
gang with me, & girl
horrors of my
wallet, Salvation Army
underwear — incredulously
all over me I see six
inch long & thick sponges
of fungus growing off
me — so awful I dont
believe it even in
dream — spectral happenings,
cellar, stairs,
rooms, bathroom, girl, boys,
wallet, (had it in my
pillow case so Red mightnt
steal it) — Up at 6:30
“Gotta go” says boss
— breakfast: 2 coffees,
weak, cornflakes &
evap. milk — & my banana
— & blowing drizzle out
but I go — & get spot
ride to junction — & get
slow ride to High Point,
dampwet, dry in car
man was at New
Zealand & Melbourne,
— dry further in
High Point Greek
lunchcart with mottled
marble greasy counter
& aged grill & fry
smells & comfort, with
steamy windows redglow
redbrick Hi Point but
gotta roll —
(I got in that truck,
driver said “I’m quittin
my job so the hell
with the insurance spotters,
less roll” —
bums in SA) — always
say, for truck driver,
less roll —
I got $4.85
Blank Universe stared
me on Main Hiway out of
Greensboro — storm rose —
driving wet drizzly winds —
I was positive I was lost —
faces of passing
Learning to Kill: Stories