ur in
grunting and squealing, faces  tumescent, eyes  hot and
red, lips purple, fall on the American women.
(Eskimos  have  a  rutting   season  when   the  tribes
meet in short Summer to  disport themselves  in orgies.
Their faces swell and lips turn purple. )
A  House  Dick  with  cigar  two  feet long  sticks his
head in  through the  wall: "Have  you got  a menagerie
in here?"
Hassan  wrings  his  hands:   "A  shambles!   A  filthy
shambles! By Allah  I never  see anything  so downright
nasty!"
He whirls on A.J. who is sitting on a sea chest, parrot
on  shoulder,  patch  over one  eye, drinking  rum from
a  tankard.  He  scans  the horizon  with a  huge brass
telescope.
Hassan:  "You  cheap  Factualist  bitch!  Go  and never
darken my rumpus room again!"
             CAMPUS OF INTEъZONE UNIVEъSITY

  Donkeys, camels, llamas,  rickshaws, carts  of merchan-
dise  pushed  by  straining  boys,  eyes  protruding like
strangled  tongues  --  throbbing  red  with  animal hate.
Herds  of   sheep  and   goats  and   long-horned  cattle
pass  between  the  students  and  the  lecture platform.
The  students  sit  around on  rusty park  benches, lime-
stone blocks, outhouse seats, packing crates,  oil drums,
stumps,  dusty  leather hassacks,  mouldy gym  mats. They
wear levis -- jellabas...  hose and  doublet --  drink corn
from  mason  jars,  coffee  from  tin  cans,  smoke  gage
(marijuana)  in  cigarettes  made  of wrapping  paper and
lottery  tickets...  shoot  junk  with  a safety  pin and
dropper,  study  racing  forms,  comic  books,  Mayan co-
dices....
  The Professor arrives  on a  bicycle carrying  a string
of  bull  heads.  He  mounts  the  platform  holding  his
back (crane swings a bellowing cow over his head).
  Prof:  "Fucked  by  the   Sultan's  Army   last  night.
I have dislocate the back in the  service of  my resident
queen....  Can't  evict  that old  gash. Need  a licensed
brain  electrician  disconnect  her synapsis  by synapsis
and a surgical bailiff put her guts out on  the sidewalk.
When  Ma  move  in  on  a  boy  bag  and buggage  he play
Hell dispossess that Gold Star Boarder...."
  He  looks  at  the  bull heads  humming tunes  from the
1920s.  "The nostalgia  fit is  on me  boys and  will out
willy   silly...   boys  walk   down  the   carny  Midway
eating  pink  spun  sugar...  goose  each  other  at  the
peep show...  jack off  in the  Ferris Wheel  throw sperm
at  the  moon  rising  red and  smoky over  the foundries
across the river. A Nigra hangs from a cotton wood
in front of The Old Court House... whimpering
women catch his sperm in vaginal teeth.... (Husband
looks at the little changeling with narrow eyes the
color of a faded grey flannel shirt.... 'Doc, I suspect
it to be a Nigra.'
  The Doctor shrugs: 'It's the Old Army Game, son.
Pea under the shell... Now you see it now you
don't....')
  "And Doc Parker in the back room in his drugstore
shooting horse heroin three grains a jolt -- 'Tonic,' he
mutters. 'It's always Spring.'
  " 'Hands' Benson Town Pervert has took up a queren-
cia in the school privy (Querencia is bullfight term....
The bull will find a spot in the ring he likes ".nd stay
there and the bullfighter has to go in and meet the bull
on his bull terms or coax him out -- one or the other).
Sheriff A.Q. 'Flat' Larsen say 'Some way we gotta lure
him outa that querencia.'...And Old Ma Lottie sleep
ten years with a dead daughter and home cured too,
wakes shivering in the East Texas dawn... vultures
out over the black swamp water and cypress stumps....
  "And now gentlemen -- I trust there are no transvest-
ites present -- he he -- and you are all gentlemen by act
of Congress it being only remain to establish you male
humans, positively no Transitionals in either direction
will be allowed in this decent hall. Gentlemen, present
short arms. Now you have all been briefed on the im-
portance of keeping your weapons well lubricated and
ready for any action flank or rear guard."
  Students: "Hear! Hear!" They wearily unbutton their
flies. One of them brandishes a huge erection.
  PъOF:  "And  now,   gentlemen,  where   was  I?   Oh  yes,
Ma  Lottie...  She  wake  shivering   in  the   gentle  pink
dawn, pink as the candles on a little girl's  birthday cake,
pink as  spun sugar,  pink as  a sea-shell,  pink as  a cock
pulsing  in  a  red  fucking  light....  Ma   Lottie...  hu-
rumph... if  this prolixity  be not  cut short  will succumb
to  the  infirmities  of age  and join  her daughter  in for-
maldehyde.
  "The  ъime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner  by   Coleridge  the
poet...  I  should  like  to  call  your  attention  to  the
symbolism of the Ancient Mariner himself."
  Students: "Himself the man says."
  "Thereby   call   attention   to   his   own  unappetizing
person.
  "That wasn't a nice thing to do, Teach."
  A   hundred   juvenile   delinquents...    switch   blades
clicking like teeth move at him.
  Prof:  "Oh  Landsakes!"  He  tries  desperately   to  dis-
guise  himself  as  an  old  woman  with  high  black  shoes
and  umbrella....  "If  it  wasn't  for  my   lumbago  can't
rightly  bend  over  I'd  turn  them  offering my  Sugar Bum
the  way  baboons  do  it....  If  a  weaker  baboon  be at-
tacked  by  a  stronger  baboon   the  weaker   baboon  will
either  (a)  present  his  hrump  fanny  I  believe  is  the
word,  gentlemen,  heh  heh   for  passive   intercourse  or
(b)  if  he  is a  different type  baboon more  extrovert and
well-adjusted,  lead  an  attack  on  an even  weaker baboon
if he can find one."
  Dilapidated  Disease  in  1920 clothes  like she  sleep in
them   ever  since   undulates  across   dreary  neonlighted
Chicago  street...  dead  weight  of  the  Dear   Dead  Days
hanging  in the  air like  an earth-bound  ghost. Disease:
(canned heat tenor). "Find the weakest baboon."
  Frontier saloon: Fag Baboon dressed in little  girl blue
dress  sings  in  resigned  voice  to  tune of  Alice Blue
Gown: "I'm the weakest baboon of them all."
  A freight train separates the Prof. from  the juveniles.
...When  the  train  passes  they  have  fat  stomachs and
responsible jobs....
  STUDENTS: "We want Lottie!"
  Prof:  "That  was  in  another   country,  gentlemen....
As I was saying before I was so rudely irrupted by  one of
my multiple personalities... troublesome  little beasts...
consider the Ancient Mariner  without curare,  lasso, bul-
bocapnine  or  straitjacket,  albeit  able to  capture and
hold  a  live  audience....  What  is  his  hurmp gimmick?
He  he he  he... He  does not,  like so-called  artists at
this  time,  stop just  anybody thereby  inflicting unsent
for   boredom   and   working   random   hardship....   He
stops  those  who  cannot  choose  but  hear owing  to al-
ready  existing  relation  between  The  Mariner  (however
ancient) and the uh Wedding Guest....
  "What  the  Mariner actually  says is  not important....
He  may  be  rambling,  irrelevant,  even  crude  and ram-
pant  senile.  But  something   happens  to   the  Wedding
Guest  like  happens  in  psychoanalysis  when  it happens
if it happens. If I may be  permitted a  slight digression
...an  analyst  of  my  acquaintance  does all  the talking
-- patients  listen patiently  or not....  He reminiscences
...tells  dirty  jokes  (old ones)  achieves counterpoints
of  idiocy  undreamed  of  by  The  County  Clerk.  He  is
illustrating  at  some  length  that  nothing can  ever be
accomplished on the verbal level....  He arrived  at this
method  through observing  that The  Listener --  The Ana-
lyst -- was not reading  the mind  of the  patient.... The
patient -- The Talker -- was reading  his mind....  That is
the  patient has  ESP awareness  of the  analyst's dreams
and  schemes  whereas  the  analyst contacts  the patient
strictly from front  brain.... Many  agents use  this ap-
proach -- they are notoriously  long-winded bores  and bad
listeners....
  "Gentlemen I will slop a pearl: You  can find  out more
about someone by talking than by listening."
  Pigs rush up and the Prof. pours buckets of pearls into
a trough....
  "I am not worthy to eat his feet," says the fattest hog
of them all.
  "Clay anyhoo."

    A.J.'S ANNUAL PAъTY

  A.J. turns to the guests. "Cunts, pricks,  fence strad-
dlers, tonight I give you -- that  international-known im-
pressario  of  blue  movies and  short-wave TV,  the one,
the only, The Great Slashtubitch!"
  He  points  to a  red velvet  curtain sixty  feet high.
Lightning  rends  the  curtain  from  top to  bottom. The
Great Slashtubitch stands revealed. His face  is immense,
immobile like  a Chimu  funeral urn.  He wears  full eve-
ning dress, blue cape  and blue  monocle. Huge  grey eyes
with tiny black pupils that seem  to spit  needles. (Only
the  Coordinate Factualist  can meet  his gaze. )  When he
is angered the charge of  it will  blow his  monocle across
the room. Many an ill-starred actor has felt the  icy blast
of  Slashtubitch's  displeasure:  "Get  out  of  my studio,
you  cheap  four-flushing  ham!  Did  you  think to  pass a
counterfeit    orgasm   on    me!   THE    GъEAT   SLASHTU-
BITCH!  I  could  tell  if  you  come  by  regard  the beeg
toe.  Idiot!  Mindless scum!!  Insolent baggage!!!  Go ped-
dle thy ass and know that it takes  sincerity and  art, and
devotion, to  work for  Slashtubitch. Not  shoddy trickery,
dubbed  gasps,  rubber  turds and  vials of  milk concealed
in  the  ear  and  shots  of   Yohimbine  sneaked   in  the
wings."  (  Yohimbine,  derived  from  the  bark of  a tree
growing in  Central Africa,  is the  safest and  most effi-
cient  aphrodisiac.  It  operates  by  dilating  the  blood
vessels on  the surface  of the  skin, particularly  in the
genital area. )
  Slashtubitch ejects his monocle. It  sails out  of sight,
returns  like  a  boomerang  into  his  eye.  He pirouettes
and  disappears  in  a  blue  mist,  cold as  liquid air...
fadeout....
  On  Screen.  ъed-haired,   green-eyed  boy,   white  skin
with  a  few freckles...  kissing a  thin brunette  girl in
slacks. Clothes and hair-do suggest existentialist  bars of
all the world cities. They  are seated  on low  bed covered
in white silk. The girl opens his pants with gentle fingers
and pulls  out his  cock which  is small  and very  hard. A
drop  of  lubricant  gleams at  its tip  like a  pearl. She
caresses  the crown  gently: "Strip,  Johnny." He  takes off
his  clothes  with  swift sure  movements and  stands naked
before  her,  his  cock  pulsing.  She  makes a  motion for
him  to  turn  around  and  he  pirouettes across  the floor
parodying a model,  hand on  hip. She  takes off  her shirt.
Her breasts  are high  and small  with erect  nipples. She
slips off her underpants.  Her pubic  hairs are  black and
shiny.  He  sits  down  beside  her  and  reaches  for her
breast. She stops his hands.
    "Darling, I want to rim you," she whispers.
    "No. Not now."
    "Please, I want to."
    "Well, all right. I'll go wash my ass."
    "No, I'll wash it."
    "Aw shucks now, it ain't dirty."
    "Yes it is. Come on now, Johnny boy."
    She  leads  him  into  the  bathroom. "All  right, get
down."  He  gets  down  on  his  knees and  leans forward,
with his chin on the bath mat. "Allah," he says.  He looks
back and grins at her. She  washes his  ass with  soap and
hot water sticking her finger up it.
    "Does that hurt?"
    "Noooooooooo."
    "Come along, baby." She  leads the  way into  the bed-
room.  He  lies  down  on  his  back  and throws  his legs
back  over  his  head, clasping  elbows behind  his knees.
She kneel down  and caress  the backs  of his  thighs, his
balls,  running  her  fingers  down the  perennial divide.
She push  his cheeks  apart, lean  down and  begin licking
the anus, moving her head in  a slow  circle. She  push at
the sides of the  asshole, licking  deeper and  deeper. He
close  his  eyes  and  squirm. She  lick up  the perennial
divide. His small,  tight balls....  A great  pearl stands
out on the tip of his circumcised  cock. Her  mouth closes
over  the  crown.  She  sucks  rhythmically  up  and down,
pausing  on  the  up  stroke  and  moving her  head around
in a circle. Her hand plays gently  with his  balls, slide
down  and  middle  finger  up  his ass.  As she  suck down
toward the root of his cock she tickle his  prostate mock-
ingly. He grin and fart. She  is sucking  his cock  now in
a  frenzy.  His body  begins to  contract, pulling  up to-
ward  his  chin.  Each  time  the  contraction  is longer.
"Wheeeeeeee!"  the  boy  yell,  every  muscle  tense,  his
whole body strain to  empty through  his cock.  She drinks
his jissom which fills her mouth in  great hot  spurts. He
lets his feet Hop back onto  the bed.  He arches  his back
and yawns.
  Mary is  strapping on  a rubber  penis: "Steely  Dan III
from  Yokohama,"  she  says,  caressing  the  shaft.  Milk
spurts across the room.
  "Be sure that milk  is pasteurized.  Don't go  giving me
some  kinda  awful  cow disease  like anthrax  or glanders
or aftosa...."
  "When  I  was  a transvestite  Liz in  Chi used  to work
as  an  exterminator.  Make  advances  to pretty  boys for
the thrill of being beaten as  a man.  Later I  catch this
one  kid,  overpower  him with  supersonic judo  I learned
from an  old Lesbian  Zen monk.  I tie  him up,  strip off
his clothes with a razor and fuck him  with Steely  Dan I.
He is so relieved I don't castrate him literal he come all
over my bedbug spray."
  "What happen to Steely Dan II"
  "He  was  torn  in  two  by a  bull dike.  Most terrific
vaginal  grip  I  ever  experienced. She  could cave  in a
lead pipe. It was one of her parlor tricks."
  "And Steely Dan II"
  "Chewed  to  bits  by  a famished  candiru in  the Upper
Baboonsasshole. And don't say 'Wheeeeeeee!' this time."
  "Why not? It's real boyish."
  "Barefoot  boy,  check  thy   bullheads  with   the  ma-
dame."
  He looks  at the  ceiling, hands  behind his  head, cock
pulsing. "So what shall I do? Can't shit with  that dingus
up me. I wonder is it possible  to laugh  and come  at the
same time? I recall, during  the war,  at the  Jockey Club
in  Cairo,  me and  my asshole  buddy, Lu,  both gentlemen
by  act  of  Congress...  nothing  else  could  have  done
such a thing to  either of  us.... So  we got  laughing so
hard we piss all over ourselves and  the waiter  say: 'You
bloody  hash-heads, get  out of  here!' I  mean, if  I can
laugh the piss out of  me I  should be  able to  laugh out
jissom.  So  tell  me  something real  funny when  I start
coming.  You  can tell  by certain  premonitory quiverings
of the prostate gland...."
  She  puts  on  a  record,  metallic cocaine  be-bop. She
greases the dingus, shoves  the boy's  legs over  his head
and works it up his ass with a  series of  corkscrew move-
ments of her fluid hips. She moves in  a slow  circle, re-
volving  on  the  axis  of  the shaft.  She rubs  her hard
nipples  across  his  chest.  She kisses  him on  neck and
chin and  eyes. He  runs his  hands down  her back  to her
buttocks, pulling her into his  ass. She  revolves faster,
faster. His body jerks and  writhes in  convulsive spasms.
"Hurry up, please," she says. "The milk is  getting cold."
He  does  not  hear.  She presses  her mouth  against his.
Their faces run together. His sperm  hits her  breast with
light, hot licks.
  Mark  is  standing in  the doorway.  He wears  a turtle-
neck  black  sweater.  Cold, handsome,  narcissistic face.
Green  eyes  and  black hair.  He looks  at Johnny  with a
slight sneer, his head on  one side,  hands on  his jacket
pockets, a  graceful hoodlum  ballet. He  jerk his  head and
Johnny   walk   ahead   of  him   into  the   bedroom.  Mary
follow.  "All  right,  boys,"  she  say, sitting  down naked
on a pink silk dais overlooking the bed. "Get with it!"
  Mark  begin   to  undress   with  fluid   movements,  hip-
rolls, squirm out of his  turtle-neck sweater  revealing his
beautiful  white  torso  in  a  mocking belly  dance. Johnny
deadpan,  face  frozen,  breath  quick,  lips   dry,  remove
his  clothes  and  drop  them  on the  floor. Mark  lets his
shorts fall on one foot. He kick like a chorus-girl, sending
the  shorts  across  the  room.  Now  he  stand  naked,  his
cock  stiff, straining  up and  out. He  run slow  eyes over
Johnny's body. He smile and lick his lips,
  Mark  drop  on  one  knee,   pulling  Johnny   across  his
back  by  one  arm.  He  stand  up  and  throw him  six feet
onto  the  bed.  Johnny  land  on   his  back   and  bounce.
Mark  jump  up  and  grab  Johnny's  ankles, throw  his legs
over  his  head.  Mark's  lips  are  drawn  back in  a tight
snarl.  "All  right,  Johnny  boy."  He contracts  his body,
slow  and  steady  as  an  oiled machine,  push his  cock up
Johnny's  ass.  Johnny  give  a  great  sigh,  squirming  in
ecstasy.  Mark  hitches  his  hands  behind  Johnny's shoul-
ders,  pulling  him  down  onto  his  cock  which  is buried
to  the  hilt in  Johnny's ass.  Great whistles  through his
teeth.  Johnny  screams  like  a bird.  Mark is  rubbing his
face  against  Johnny's,  snarl  gone,  face   innocent  and
boyish  as  his  whole  liquid  being  spurt  into  Johnny's
quivering body.
  A  train   roar  through   him  whistle   blowing...  boat
whistle,  foghorn,  sky  rocket  burst over  oily lagoons...
penny  arcade  open  into  a   maze  of   dirty  pictures...
ceremonial   cannon   boom   in   the  harbor...   a  scream
shoots  down  a  white  hospital  corridor... out  along a
wide  dusty  street  between  palm  trees,   whistles  out
across the  desert like  a bullet  (vulture wings  husk in
the  dry  air),  a  thousand  boys  come  at once  in out-
houses,  bleak public  school toilets,  attics, basements,
treehouses,  Ferris  wheels,  deserted  houses,  limestone
caves, rowboats,  garages, barns,  rubbly windy  city out-
skirts  behind  mud  walls  (smell of  dried excrement)...
black  dust  blowing  over  lean  copper  bodies... ragged
pants  dropped  to  cracked  bleeding bare  feet... (place
where  vultures fight  over fish  heads)... by  jungle la-
goons, vicious fish snap at white sperm floating  on black
water,  sand  flies  bite the  copper ass,  howler monkies
like  wind  in  the trees  (a land  of great  brown rivers
where  whole  trees  float,  bright  colored snakes  in the
branches,  pensive  lemurs  watch   the  shore   with  sad
eyes),  a red  plane traces  arabesques in  blue substance
of sky, a rattlesnake strike, a  cobra rear,  spread, spit
white venom, pearl and opal  chips fall  in a  slow silent
rain  through  air clear  as glycerine.  Time jump  like a
broken  typewriter,  the  boys  are  old  men,  young hips
quivering  and  twitching  in  boy-spasms  go   slack  and
flabby,  draped  over  an  outhouse seat,  a park  bench, a
stone  wall  in  Spanish  sunlight,  a  sagging  furnished
room  bed  (outside red  brick slum  in clear  winter sun-
light)...  twitching  and  shivering  in  dirty underwear,
probing for a vein in  the junk-sick  morning, in  an Arab
cafe  muttering  and  slobbering   --  the   Arabs  whisper
"Medjoub" and edge  away --  (a Medjoub  is a  special sort
of  religious  Moslem  lunatic...  often  epileptic  among
other  disorders).  "The  Moslems  must  have   blood  and
jissom.... See, see  where Christ's  blood streams  in the
spermament,"   howls   the   Medjoub....   He    stand   up
screaming  and  black  blood  spurt  solid  from  his  last
erection, a pale white statue standing there, as if  he had
stepped  whole  across  t