“Something
like this: Don’t argue with me. I’ve just had a heart attack.”
“Sure.
And the guy says to me, ‘This job’s killed greater men than I.’ And I tell him,
‘Well, that’s not so great,’ you know?”
“Yep.
You know, like, worry about it, why don’t you? Go ahead. Worry!”
“Plan
ahead to fall behind. It gets the ruckus started, pretty close to right.”
“Volatile
suppositions go down drowned and exposed. I might make more rights on reds than
most. Over that, well, I’m felled to be finished.”
“And
then she says, ‘I’m all out of lipstick.’ Right?”
“Lord
save the devils. Put my name in a hat and toss your glass in the air. I’m
altered, and I’m alright.”
“Can’t
a man just be happy without all these accusations being hurled at him?”
“The
kind of nonsense we talk should be patented.”
“All
the breaks, all the walked hurrying, all the push-and-peep deliverance, all the
harkening, all the vouching. We’re such weasels in with rats. I bet this whorl
of crumby luck is done, just like us. Or would that be to us?”
“Nothing
is worse. Better’s junked. A lot of crud, if you make me an answer of it.”
“Decline
between the lines.”
“Fellow
tipplers, unite!”
“Topers.
It’s topers, fuck nut.”
“I
don’t care. I don’t care. I just…me? I just don’t care no more.”
“Play
to place.”
“I’m
up on blocks lately. I’m in dispose. I’m jealous of windows. That’s another round,
boys. Once more around.”
“Rye
whisky, rye whisky. If I don’t get rye whisky I think I might die.”
“Or
if you do you’ll drink yourself to it. The dying, that is.”
“Per…burp…haps.”
“Plain
as night.
“Other
people. Shit. They go around ordering their own disasters. Dessert is not
served, damn it! I am groveling for pennies and unsalted peanuts. Shit.”
“Work
around it. Pat your own front. I’m dishing out plates to the spoon-and-fork
crowd.”
“The
mice have come for your morsels.”
“Yikes.
I mean, jiminy x-mas.”
“Victory
is our all’s nothing.”
“With
me, well, it’s all tiptoe or tornado. I opt for unlikely resources. A better
pull at this here bottle in front of me. Everything gets on to being relevant
at some point.”
“Just
ask God when she’s drunk.”
“Better
down than out. I rent my time by the bottle. Gasoline makes us all sadder
campers. Just the fumes. Just the spume.”
“Remarkable.
Your playing your own funeral, and it’s a sellout. Can’t get a ticket anywhere,
new or old.”
“It’s
a tough song to end. You’ve just got to know when to pull the plug.”
“That’s
just the ice in your drink talking.”
“Sure.
I’m all bells and cop sirens. Take me less than a serious man would. Splash out
my dreams on the cold concrete. Nobody’s around to hear.”
“Some
girl says hi, asks how you’re doing as you try to squeeze by a crowded deli
counter. And you scratch at your neck and try to remember who she is and how
the hell she knows you. And you say that you’re doing just fine.”
“Another
one or three down the hatch.”
“That’s
a dollar to somebody else’s name.”
“Strange
pensioners giving the weak arm to stranger strangers than us.”
“Tell
‘em all I said farewell.”
“Wilt
and whine. Shrink and moan. I’m dreary. I’m picked apart by trying. If the
streetlights were wearing shirts they’d have a few buttons undone about now.
And I’m sitting here memorizing the names of lakes. By golly, though. Nobody
knows her alibis by heart the way I do.”
“Who?”
“The
rain.”
“Oh.”
“The
24-hour diners are all filled up with lunatic insomniacs, dress-rehearsal
dropouts, ex-candy-bar salesmen, scarf-and-bolo wearing hooligans, and the
crankiest janitors east of Minneapolis. I give in, but not out.”
“I
am overwhelmed by holy dismissiveness. Color me in with Colorado. Cut the skin
from all the apples. I’m giving out church keys to all the beggars. Let’s trump
up the charges and stroll without the moolah. Nothing will cut our ties for us.
Nothing.”
“Only
they don’t go around giving out medals to chumps like us.”
“Better
dangerous than sorry that you’re getting too soft.”
“My
Russian don’t stumble when it’s walking itself home. My China’s on the fritz.
All my Ethiopias are dressed up in courage. Don’t relate my Mexico to yours.
I’m feeling festive in the window’s neon. And my Frances are driving on the
wrong side of the road.”
“Guess.
I’m all for it. Guess, guess, guess.”
“Do
you see these hands clapping?”
“Bluffs
that call themselves. I get it.”
“Bats!
Look out! Duck! Bats!”
“That’ll
cave in what I don’t get into what I forget to feel like having too long ago to
repeat. You, uh, dropped something there.”
“I’ve
been picking myself up off the floor for too long now. Forget it. I’m all out
and in at the same time.”
“Better
off out than in. We keep ourselves up at night with jumpy plunderings of the
past.”
“Sha
Na Na Na. Lah. Lah. Lah!”
“This
here bar’s holding me up like it’s my only friend. All I got in this miserable
old world.”
“Nobody
brings anything small into a bar….”
“Around
here. Yep. Bad old Jamie Stewart on the lam. Gesticulating for the mob.”
“I
can’t sleep at night.”
“The
day?”
“Nah.
That’s for drinking away the maudlin dreams I’m too scared to let myself have.”
“The
older we get…”
“The
more we need this.”
“Crash
on the levee, baby. This old ship’s a gonna wreck just right before it gets to
shore.”
“The
more we need of this. The more it needs of us.”
“Sha
Lah Lah…Lah lah lah…”
“All
we are is what time’s made us.”
“Washed
out to the sea too drunk to swim.”
“Sha
Na Na. Lah. Lah! Lah!”
“And
we’re reckless now, getting smashed before breakfast with ruffians.”
“Never
mind my shyness. Just, never mind.”
“A
winze for the more temperamental of us to connect with our inner selves. I am
in charge of nothing.”
“Blasted.”
“Rats.”
“There’ll
be or they’ll be?”
“Both.
In any or all cases, loafing gets me by. By the way, this here edge is not very
easy to take off.”
“I’ve
noticed. Quick, recite The Declaration of Independence while imbibing this here
glass of beer.”
“That’ll
help. The shakes are coming for me. Best to get a head start.”
“Even
Thomas Jefferson…”
“Yep.
Even him. The king of the nickel.”
“Not
so much like other people. A crusader of the bummest deals. Not one adolescent
in detention would ever guess what that’s worth. Not even an act of vandalism to
my name. Hold the fort. I gotta wrangle with the pisser.”
“General
Mao’s gone north for the winter. Okay. Go get your tinkle on.”
“You
can’t talk to me like that. We’re attempting to be adults here, remember?”
“Oh,
well, shit. All the bartenders from here to tiramisu keep their noses clean
with busyness. I’d advise opportunity to ring instead of knocking. I’d advise
you to do the same, if I could.”
“Anything’d
be reassuring at this point. Hallelujah. Day by day. I shall be back.”
“In
or through the course of events we come to a steeple of fingers and a home made
of paper, rock, and scissors. We might attempt a hijacking of our stilted ways.
We might make dominos out of nude pictures of 3rd-rate movie stars.
Over my own admonishment. Over my quibbles with insecurity’s blessed walls. I’d
be stabbing back if I could. Don’t you know all my best friends are from
Queens? Ah. The flush. There it is. The hallowed sound of water’s downward
dance. A crepitant jangle in the lights. The gusty hooverings of the hand
dryer. I want to watch trees go about their day. This song reminds me of 1948.
Claire De Lune? Or would that be near-to-highly inappropriate for me to say out
loud? Piano music is an old pal of mine, so there’s that.”
“Mumbling
will get you everywhere except where you want most to go.”
“Some
highbrow philosophizing went on in the john there, I see.”
“And
to whom would that remark be intended for? I’m all ears, here. Really.”
“Say
that again. Did you fly when you were a kid?”
“All
the time.”
“Figurines.
It does and it does and it does. Doesn’t it?”
“Got
to. Cranks of fortune lend awful dimes to anachronistic machines. We hotel our
destinations. We chase quarters into the gutter. The bells are all out of
tolls. Abate! That’s what I say. Abate!”
“Greasy
hunky-dory satisfaction takes root. That’s all I’m seeing here. Smug stops of
stationary devices. Me? I bridle optimism in hopes of remaining humble.”
“Conning
yourself? It’s a cheapskate’s ruse. I own the mercenary plash in the
surroundings. Get taken with it or be took. It’s me winking at the trunk
instead of the hood.”
“I
own the rights to my anger. I drink to or with it, but never to my health.”
“Gather
your belongings. The party’s not attended. We need to damage our remorse some
before outwitting errand-takers.”
“I
believe in peonies with rubber stems.”
“Nobody’s
in the business of placing blame, as they said back in other Novembers, other
recharged accounts, and in the hassle of crummy weather. The breath it takes is
never quite away enough.”
“There
are raisins in my rum. And every day I’m a little more dumb.”
“Playing
the scales up and down while the other kids got to run around and roughhouse.
Look at me now. I’m a stiff collar for the world to pull at. Reconsider the
dust.”
“You
don’t say!”
“I
do.”
“Well,
pop my corn and punch all my jokes. I eat earwigs for breakfast and small-time
despots for dessert.”
“And
for all of our hereafters?”
“Cry
toasts in the loveless midnight. Arrest graffiti chiselers for scabbing the bar
doors with phrases like, ‘She’s a walrus and she don’t like black.’ Misrepresent
my necktie in a wrapping contest. Choose no side. Ophelia works only as a
bouncer and a radio thief in these skewered times we find ourselves counting
along with. These months have the loneliest sounding names.”
“Beat
back the breakers, mama. This whole here show’s never gonna hit the road.”
“I’ve
said my peace through shards of war. Oh holiest of shit, I’m murkier now in
throes of photographed wonder than the past’d ever know.”
“Some
gladder afternoon than this. I’ll flay away. I’ll flay away. And then. And
then. Flay, flay, flay away.”
“Sadder
still. Sad and sadder, and sadder still.”
“As
long as the whisky pours true, and it is so warm and strong going down. Tingle
my palms and elate my brain. I’m off to nab cat burglars in the act of
asleep-and-drunk-in-their-boots penance.”
“So
says who?”
“So
says the father’s mother and the son’s holiest of poltergeists.”
“How
many points do I get for missing?”
“Only
as much as it takes for it to be all that you do.”
“How
much?”
“Deal.
Just, fucking, deal.”
“One
Mississippi. Two Mississippi. All the goddamn Mississippis in the world. Okay,
I’m rivered out.”
“Good
enough, and, also, just not quite that good.”
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