The Witness claimed that he could trace begetting back to the first begat. ‘…its all there, in the pamphlet…’ he said, ‘…the begat of begetting…’. The assemblage, many of whom had assembled to be the first to get a plateful of potluck, ignored the Witness’ presentiments, hoping he would simply go away, back to wherever he came from. ‘…go away you bastard…’ hollered a woman, her sickly children in tow. ‘…yes, away with you…’ yelled another, her hair done up in a banquet bun. Dejesus, sitting beside a man with a sawtooth smile, lit a match, and throwing it at the stack of pamphlets said ‘…that’ll be enough of that…’.
An osseous stench issued from the mouth of the sewer beside the assemblage, a woman in a calfskin hat and matching gloves covered her mouth with a handkerchief, the sky black as burnt molasses. The Semana brothers, who had just arrived by hook and crook, stood next to the twins stamping their feet and waving their hands, the Witness looking weakly and faint. The man with the sawtooth smile, bent over double with a panging ache in his guts, shivered like a March lamb, Dejesus watching him out of the curb of his eye. ‘…away with you, you bastardly man…’ yelled a woman with a chin mole, the sawtooth man retching, a coppery piss of corn and mutton spilling onto the tips of his shoes.
Once everyone’s belly’s were fed and their thirsts slaked The Feast of Octave of St. Camillus came to an end, a yellow moon simmering in the cauldron of the black, black sky. The Ushuaia brothers of Tito del Fuego, the Meth sisters, (born to the Lorraine twins, Eberth and Alva from Dombasle-sur-Meurthe), the Mulch cousins of Rheinland-Pfalz, the Jacosta Bollocks Sisters, the Sibu Brothers of Sarawak, the Chelmsford twins, Rood and Simon, Dejesus, the Witness and the man in the hat, reading from Livro do Comerciante Arrogante, went their separate ways, some north some south, some east some west, some northeast others southwest, leaving a beastly mess in their wake. In the distance, where the eye sees chimeras, not people or decipherable things, the dogmen climbed the hill leading into town, the littlest pounding his chest, the eldest humming in a low gravelly voice, the night sky lagging behind them like a spoiled child, face sticky with sweet sugar and tears.
An osseous stench issued from the mouth of the sewer beside the assemblage, a woman in a calfskin hat and matching gloves covered her mouth with a handkerchief, the sky black as burnt molasses. The Semana brothers, who had just arrived by hook and crook, stood next to the twins stamping their feet and waving their hands, the Witness looking weakly and faint. The man with the sawtooth smile, bent over double with a panging ache in his guts, shivered like a March lamb, Dejesus watching him out of the curb of his eye. ‘…away with you, you bastardly man…’ yelled a woman with a chin mole, the sawtooth man retching, a coppery piss of corn and mutton spilling onto the tips of his shoes.
Once everyone’s belly’s were fed and their thirsts slaked The Feast of Octave of St. Camillus came to an end, a yellow moon simmering in the cauldron of the black, black sky. The Ushuaia brothers of Tito del Fuego, the Meth sisters, (born to the Lorraine twins, Eberth and Alva from Dombasle-sur-Meurthe), the Mulch cousins of Rheinland-Pfalz, the Jacosta Bollocks Sisters, the Sibu Brothers of Sarawak, the Chelmsford twins, Rood and Simon, Dejesus, the Witness and the man in the hat, reading from Livro do Comerciante Arrogante, went their separate ways, some north some south, some east some west, some northeast others southwest, leaving a beastly mess in their wake. In the distance, where the eye sees chimeras, not people or decipherable things, the dogmen climbed the hill leading into town, the littlest pounding his chest, the eldest humming in a low gravelly voice, the night sky lagging behind them like a spoiled child, face sticky with sweet sugar and tears.
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