-- We said we werent going to do Daddy.

-- Real films. Sent everywhere.

-- Our darling.

-- As if it were late, late, and we were ready to pull on our red-and-gold-striped nightshirts.

-- I told her about the Great Septuagesimal Orgasm, implying she could have one, if she was good. But it is growing late, very late indeed, for such as we.

-- I got things to do.

-- Lime Rickeys.

-- Shocked white faces talking.

-- Oh man Im not up for it.

-- The rest of the trip presents no real difficulties.

-- Have you seen the new amphitheater? Made out of red rock. They play all the tragedies.

-- Cried my little eyes out. The sheet was sopping.

-- Where one can taste the essences, get swindled into health.

-- Yes, I remember Momma, jerking the old nervous system about with her electric diktats.

-- The body knows.

-- Then shed grade your paper.

-- I got three different shower heads. Different degrees of sting.

-- And in the fall the circus comes. Plays the red rock gardens where the carved red asters, carved red phlox, are set off by borders of yellow beryl.

-- Yes Ive been there.

-- Do the cops like it?

-- Some monster with claws, maybe velvet-covered claws or Teflon-covered claws, inhabits my dreams. Whistling, whistling. I say, Monster, how goes it with you? And he says, Quite happily, dreammate, there are certain criticisms, the Curator of Archetypes thinks I dont quite cut it, thinks Im shuckin and jivin when what I should be doing is attacking, attacking, attacking --

-- I tried that, I remember. Cried and cried. Didnt do a damn bit of good.

-- I had my nap.

-- Yeah Ive seen it thats over by the train station right?

-- Sitting there lowing and not-lowing. In her old rocking chair.

-- A slightly old young man.

-- Yes.

-- Some of these people arent clean. People you meet.

-- Sometimes I hear them howling from the hospital.

-- True.

-- Pool projects positive images of itself through the great medium of film.

-- Frame or pedestal.

-- Our pride.

-- Concealed weapons. Well, what can you do?

-- The new, down-to-earth, think-Im-gonna-kill-myself music, which unwraps the sky.

-- Ive been there.

-- But perhaps one ought not to complain, when fiends have worsened your life. But rather, emulating the great Stoics, Epictetus and so on, just zip into a bar and lift a few, whilst listening to the new, incorrigible, great-white-shark, knife, music.

-- A slightly old young man still advertising in the trees and rivers for a mate.

-- I got one of these Finnish pads that slip over the hand.

-- And there is a film chronicling the fabulous Pool garage sales, where one finds solid-silver plates in neglected bags.

-- I tipped my hat. She did not return the greeting.

-- She just didnt give a hang. She didnt care.

-- Luckily we have the new music now. To give us aid and comfort.

-- Is there help coming?

-- She never cared. Didnt give pig shit.

-- The body is perspicacious.

-- Yeah?

-- Pool is new, can make you new too.

-- If one does nothing but listen to the new music, everything else drifts, goes away, frays. Did Odysseus feel this way when he and Diomedes decided to steal Athenes statue from the Trojans, so that they would become dejected and lose the war? I dont think so, but who is to know what effect the new music of that remote time had on its hearers?

-- Soundtracks in Burmese, Italian, Twi, and ot九*九*藏*书*网her tongues.

-- I did.

-- Ive seen it. Rich fare, extraordinarily rich, makes you want to cry.

-- Into the gutter.

-- Pull a few hairs out of your nose poised before the mirror.

-- I called that number and they said whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth.

-- Yes. Almost without effort --

-- And the Pool buffalo herd. Six thousand beasts. All still alive.

-- The chanting in the darkened telesterion.

-- And your clavier.

-- Ive seen it. Extraordinarily rich.

-- Tied to the bed with beige cloths.

-- I thought she cared. There were moments.

-- Seeking the ecstatic vision. That which would lift people four feet off the floor.

-- She did.

-- Hallucinatory dancing. All the women drunk.

-- Theres a film about the new barracks, and a film about the new amphitheater.

-- The only thing old there is the monastery, dates from 1720 or thereabouts. Has the Dark Virgin, the Virgin is black, as is the Child. Dates from 1720 or around in there.

-- Words cant say what the body knows.

-- Beautifully engraved, with dates. That was then.

-- Pool, the revivifier.

-- Get my ocarina tuned, sew a button on my shirt.

-- Well, its not easy, conducting the mysteries. Its not easy, making the corn grow.

-- To the curious: A man who was a Communist heard the new music, and now is not. Fernando the fish-seller was taught to read and write by the new music, and is now a leper, white as snow. William Friend was caught trying to sneak into the new music with a set of bongos concealed under his cloak, but was garroted with his own bicycle chain, just in time. Propp the philosopher, having dinner with the Holy Ghost, was told of the coming of the new music but also informed that he would not live to hear it.

-- Drop by the shoe store, pick up a pair of shoes.

-- Tossed him a little bombita now and then just to keep him on his toes.

-- Momma lowed lute.

-- How could we lose? How could we? We!

-- Id just like to rest and laze around.

-- No. I feel like Insufficient Funds.

-- This bird that fell into the back yard?

-- Feel like a busted-up car by the side of the road stripped of value.

-- Persephone herself appearing, hovering. Accepting offerings, balls of salt, solid gold serpents, fig branches, figs.

-- What does Goethe say?

-- Serenity. Peace. The dead are shown in art galleries, framed. Or sometimes, put on pedestals. Not much different from the practice elsewhere except that in Pool they display the actual --

-- No its closer to the Great Lyceum. The Great Lyceum glowing like an ember against the hubris of the city.

-- Not much for nuzzling, now. I mostly kneel at their feet, knit for them or parse for them --

-- Routine maintenance, nothing to write home about.

-- Momma.

-- Still, all I wanted to do was a little krummhorn. A little krummhorn once in a while.

-- Watching the buffalo graze. It cant be this that Ive waited for, Ive waited too long. I find it intolerable, all this putter. Yet in the end, wouldnt mind doing a little grazing myself, it would look a little funny.

-- I couldnt do it.

-- An iron gut. And divinity, of course.

-- One can only conjecture.

-- Set an example. Be clean.

-- I remember the old days when we almost automatically --

-- Person.

-- People sighing and leaning against each other, holding their silver plates. Think Ill just whittle a bit, whittle and spit.

-- Who cou

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ld practice?

-- Each house has its grand lawns and grounds, brass candlesticks, thrice-daily mail delivery. Elegant widowed women living alone in large houses, watering lawns with whirling yellow sprinklers, studying the patterns of the grass, searching out brown patches to be sprinkled. Sometimes there is a grown child in the house, or an almost-grown one, working for a school or hospital in a teaching or counseling position. Frequently there are family photographs on the walls of the house, about which you are encouraged to ask questions. At dusk medals are awarded those who have made it through the day, the Cross of St. Jaime, the Cross of St. Em.

-- Momma was outside.

-- Film is the great medium of this century -- hearty, giggling film.

-- She was pondering. "The goddess Demeters anguish for all her childrens mortality."

-- Fending you off. Similarly, Momma.

-- The new music burns things together, like a welder. The new music says, life becomes more and more exciting as there is less and less time.

-- Right. Come in, Commander. Put it right there, anywhere will do, let me move that for you. Just put that sucker down right there. An eleven-foot-high silver cup!

-- I have to tell you something. Susies been reading the Hite Report. She says other women have more orgasms than she does. Wanted to know why.

-- Weve avoided it.

-- No one has asked them. But they could hardly. . . I mean its new.

-- I mean theyve seen it all, felt it all. Spilled their damn blood and then spooned out buckets of mushy squash meanwhile telling the old husband that he wasnt number three on the scale of all husbands. . .

-- I was never good. Never really good.

-- I forgot.

-- Our Susie.

-- Momma didnt low no clarinet played in here. Made me sad.

-- Yes.

-- She did.

-- Staring into the thermostat.

-- Odd. Wonderful.

-- In the one about the amphitheater, an eight-day dramatization of Eckermanns Conversations with Goethe.

-- Rock over your damn foot and bust it, you didnt pop to when she was lowing and not-lowing.

-- Thought it might be hungry. Sumbitch couldnt fly you understand. It had crashed. Couldnt fly. So I went into the house to get it a Frito. So I was trying to get it to eat the Frito. I had the damn bird in one hand, and in the other, the Frito.

-- Shed lugged the old rocking chair all that way. In a mauve mood.

-- The detox ward.

-- Pool. Have you seen the new barracks? For the State Police? They used that red rock they have around there, quite a handsome structure, dim and red.

-- Numero uno.

-- Could Christ have performed the work of the Redemption had He come into the world in the shape of a pea? That was one shed drop on you.

-- She saw you and whipped you.

-- Or how it compares to the new music of this time?

-- Lunch, I remember that, there was lunch, slept with Susie after lunch, then your nap, woke up, right?, went Xeroxing, right?, read a book not a whole book but part of a book --

-- Orange Blossoms.

-- Goethe says: "I have devoted my whole life to the people and their improvement."

-- Give you eight when she knew it was ten.

-- I could certainly use some home fries long about now. Home fries and ketchup.

-- Thank God.

-- Got to air my sleeping bag, scrub up my canteen.

-- Yes, I was in on the beginning. I remember the charette, I was asked to prepar９9ｌiｂ.ｎeｔe a paper. But I couldnt think of anything. I stood there wearing this blue smock stenciled with the Pool emblem, looked rather like a maternity gown. I couldnt think of anything to say. Finally I said I would go along with the group.

-- Yes, it isnt often you hear a disco version of Un Coup de Dés. Its strengthening.

-- How did that feel?

-- I remember. You still see her?

-- Yes. She had a thing for lute.

-- Said my discourse was sickening. That was the word she used. Said it repeatedly.

-- Momma wouldnt have lowed it. But Mommas gone.

-- In the new music.

-- Succeed! It has been done, and with a stupidity that can astound the most experienced.

-- Pool. The idea was that it be one of those new towns. Where everyone would be happier. The regulations are quite strict. They dont let people have cars.

-- We can deal with that.

-- Yes, I still think of myself as a young man.

-- Knowledge of things unspeakable --

-- In the one about the new barracks we see Squadron A at morning roll call, tense and efficient. "Mattingly!" calls the sergeant. "Yo!" says Mattingly. "Morgan!" calls the sergeant. "Yo!" says Morgan.

-- Right. Course, she had all the grease.

-- Youre very clean.

-- It doesnt end.

-- Knock wood.

-- Well. Is there help coming?

-- Got to chop a little cotton, go by the drugstore.

-- Dynamite.

-- Boy or girl, dont make a pennys worth of difference. "Fine."

-- Momma wouldnt have lowed it.

-- Thats what they say, "Fine."

-- Like when she played Scrabble. She played to kill. Used the filthiest words insisting on their legitimacy. I was shocked.

-- Six feet.

-- Beautifully engraved, with dates.

-- See if I have any benefits left under the G.I. Bill.

-- You wanted a little grease, like to go to the brothel or something, you had to say, Momma can I have a little grease to go to the brothel?

-- Didnt low oboe.

-- Pedicare. Thats another thing.

-- Dig it, dig it.

-- Rob Roys.

-- I handed the tall cool Shirley Temple to the silent priest. The new music, I said, is not specifically anticlerical. Only in its deepest effects.

-- She was often underly generous.

-- What did you do today?

-- So far.

-- Trying for a ticket to the mysteries.

-- And they play a tape of the guy or woman talking, right next to his or her --

-- Got to go away fore you can get back, thats fundamental.

-- Yes.

-- Cinemas filled with industrious product.

-- Once in a way. Saw her Saturday. I hugged her and her body leaped. That was odd.

-- Our passion.

-- Being clean.

-- What can you do?

-- Momma sitting there rocking away. Dosing herself with strange intoxicants.

-- Maybe tomorrow or another day.

-- Rich, very rich.

-- Think youre the mules eyebrows dont you?

-- Meant to be one of those new towns where everyone would be happier, much happier, that was the idea.

-- The back yard. I wanted to give it a Frito?

-- Asparagus too.

-- Well how come they didnt bring us no ring of roses with a purple silk sash with gold lettering on that mother? How come that?

-- She gave you that "the bird is our friend and we never touch the bird because it hurts the bird" number.

-- Its not escaped me. Your cleanness.

-- Mauve mood that got her thrown in the jug that time.

-- Prerecorded.

-- Can open graves, properly played.

-- Where does one go to complain? Wher

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e does one go to complain, when fiends have worsened your life?

-- Momma was not to be swayed. Unswayable.

-- Killed a few flowers and put them in pots under the faces, everybody does that.

-- Youre just a little down, man, down, thats what they call it, down.

-- Brandy Alexanders and Bronxes. How could she drink that stuff?

-- Good. Excellent.

-- Talked to Happy on the telephone saw the seven oclock news did not wash the dishes want to clean up some of this mess?

-- One film is worth a thousand words. At least a thousand.

-- Momma. Rocking.

-- Something keeps drawing you back like a magnet.

-- The body aint dumb.

-- Old Momma.

-- He was always on his toes, spent his whole life on his toes, the poor fuck. Piling up the grease.

-- Is there bluegrass in heaven? Make inquiries. I saw the streets of Pool, a few curs broiling on spits.

-- Momma.

-- Thats not unusual.

-- I asked myself: Do I give a bag of beans?

-- A fine bunch of men. Nervous, but fine.

-- Carried a .357 daytimes and a .22 for evenings. Well, what can you do?

-- The south lawn.

-- Momma didnt let nobody work her over, nobody.

-- Dreams next.

-- Ever been to Pool?

-- As with much else. Momma didnt low Patrice.

-- I know the guy who plays washboard. Wears thimbles on all his fingers.

-- So even if one does not go there, one may assimilate the meaning of Pool.

-- Goethe said that?

-- Blackberries, buttercups, and wild red clover. I find the latest music terrific, although I dont generally speaking care much for the new, qua new. But this new music! It has won from our group the steadiest attention.

-- I remember the hours we spent. Banging away at our lutes.

-- In her robes of deep purple.

-- And Susie.

-- Lets not do Daddy today.

-- And in the field to your left?

-- The new music is drumless, which is brave. To make up for the absence of drums the musicians pray nightly to the Virgin, kneeling in their suits of lights in damp chapels provided for the purpose off the corridors of the great arenas --

-- Four feet or six feet off the floor. Persephone herself appearing.

-- I have not the heart.

-- She dyed my beard blue, on the eve of my seventh marriage. I was sleeping on the sun porch.

-- Didnt low gitfiddle. Vibes.

-- Lowing this, not-lowing that.

-- She had a lot on her mind. The chants. And Daddy, of course.

-- Well. Want to clean up some of this mess?

-- Lots of accommodations in Pool, all of the hotels are empty.

-- Feel like I dont like this!

-- Momma didnt low no clarinet played in here. Unfortunately.

-- Lost as she was in the Eleusinian mysteries and the art of love.

-- Momma was very outside.

-- Cup of tea before retiring.

-- Went to the grocery store and Xeroxed a box of English muffins, two pounds of ground veal and an apple. In flagrant violation of the Copyright Act.

-- Ah, my bawcock, what a fine fellow thou art.

-- Cup of tea before retiring.

-- Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Her variously colored moods.

-- She had her up days and her down days. Like most.

-- Momma could do it.

-- Cuba Libres.

-- People sighing and leaning against one another, holding their silver plates.

-- Got pretty damned tired of that old woman, pretty damned tired of that old woman. Gangs of ecstatics hanging about beating on pots and pans, trash-can lids --

-- Remembering that the new music will be there tomorrow and tomorrow and九*九*藏*书*网 tomorrow.

-- How does it end?

-- So you just want to stay here? Stay here and be yourself?

-- Im taking you to Pool, city of new life.

-- Dancing with jugs on their heads, mixtures of barley, water, mint --

-- We were standing tall. Ready to hand them their asses, clean their clocks. Yet maybe --

-- Mauve. Warm gold. Citizens blue.

-- Pool, city of new hope.

-- The joy of return is my joy. Satisfied by a walk around the block.

-- You could even cry, she wouldnt come.

-- Her dark side. They all have them, mommas.

-- Ah well. I was talking to a girl, talking to her mother actually but the daughter was very much present, on the street. The daughter was absolutely someone youd like to take to bed and hug and kiss, if you werent too old. If she werent too young. She was a wonderful-looking young woman and she was looking at me quite seductively, very seductively, smoldering a bit, and I was thinking quite well of myself, very well indeed, thinking myself quite the -- Until I realized she was just practicing.

-- Momma. Youd ask her how she was and shed say, "Fine." Like a little kid.

-- Cleaner than most.

-- You wanted a little grease, like to buy a damn comic book or something, you had to go to Momma.

-- Naturally.

-- Well, its a bitch.

-- Not one to withhold comment, Momma.

-- Dunno baby. Maybe we lost?

-- Out for a long walk one early evening I noticed in the bare brown cut fields to the right of me and to the left of me the following items of interest: in the field to the right of me, couple copulating in the shade of a car, tan Studebaker as I remember, a thing I had seen previously only in old sepia-toned photographs taken from the air by playful barnstormers capable of flying with their knees, I dont know if thats difficult or not --

-- Thats all you can get out of em. "Fine"

-- I got a C, once.

-- I can get us a plane or a train, theyve cut all the fares.

-- I called the number for help and they said there was no more help.

-- There is always a new music.

-- Where is succor?

-- That lonesome road. It ends in Pool.

-- You had your nap, I remember that --

-- Ive traveled a bit.

-- Anticipating no doubt handling of the matter by the proper authorities.

-- Im taking you to Pool.

-- And is quoted in the very superior Pool production which is enlustering the perception of Pool worldwide.

-- Momma didnt low clavier.

-- And on another corner, a man spinning a goat into gold.

-- Then she threw the bird away.

-- But on the whole, the monster says, I feel fine. Then he says, Gimme that corn flake back. I say, What? He says, Gimme that corn flake back. I say, You gave me that corn flake its my corn flake. He says, Gimme that corn flake back or Ill claw you to thread. I say, I cant man you gave it to me I already ate it. He says, Cmon man gimme the corn flake back did you butter it first? I say, Cmon man be reasonable, you dont butter a corn flake --

-- I couldnt do it.

-- The rest of the trip presents no real difficulties. The thing to keep your eye on is less time, more exciting. Remember that.

-- So its settled, well go to Pool, therell be routs and revels, maybe a sock hop, maybe a nuzzle or two on the terrace with one of the dazzling Pool beauties --

-- Have you traveled much? Have you traveled enough?

-- Thought it would unleash in her impulses better leashed? I dont know.