Sunday, November 01, 2009

Lecher de Cabra México

Toda Saitama, lecher de cabra México stood admiring his reflection in the window, passersby grumbling under their hats, vainglorious is a blessed curse, makes a monkey out of an otherwise sane man. The man in the hat remembered that drizzly late October morning when the sky fell toppling onto his favorite tan boater, the earflaps snapping, the brim folding up, the smell of bursting clouds and singed rain. All those other stories, tales told by morons and imbeciles, paled in comparison.

He came down with Agony Fever, his granddad bringing it back with him from a trip to Dunakeszi to see the Pest Syphilistarium, El Giral fixing him up with a spoon and a tincture of all-cure. ‘fuck it!’ said his granddad, ‘never heard of a man dying of the jitters’. Makes a man want to sell all his things and head headlong west. …or not… I suppose. Aslant the cabman’s tack taking notes and carryalls with a two leaded pencil. Sad sot doesn’t have the wherewithal to make a missive stick. …slanting the clap with two feet in the tucker’s gin. Skinniest fuck I ever seen! Truth be known. That winter his da bought him a shinny stick for a twofer, hid it in the close with the dog’s bowl. Funniest thing I say I ever seen. His granddad recited Faust before and after dinner,

Toward whom the withering breast doth strain-
Ye gush, ye suckle, and shall I pine thus in vain?

his grandmamma full of anger and stew sitting aslant him. ‘enough of your gibbering’ she’d say, the veins in her neck bulging, his granddad’s stomach hanging over the edge of his chair. Fattest Faust I ever seen, and I seen my fair share. And a fun time was had by all, mostly.

[1] Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust: Der Tragödie erster Teil

1 comment:

Pearl said...

what an interesting mashup of dialects. it feels like walking a rope bridge.

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"Poetry is the short-circuiting of meaning between words, the impetuous regeneration of primordial myth". Bruno Schulz

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