Ramona hadn’t gotten any less spectacular—a mouthful of bared teeth smiling—Michael, como estas?? Ahyye...you look good...
I had her in my arms off the ground
—cuando tu lloves? (When did you arrive?) What a surprise and que estás haciendo? Cuantos días estás aquí? The spanglish was pouring out of me, our lips were finding a public meeting and between us too was the return of that natural excess of energy that went into fucking or art, like an ode to fucking by my brother in lyric Macky Plume that genius oh did I want to be fucking and hearing the beautiful ode traveling the venice canals of my outer ear enroute to the inner seven times restored exilir
—I...—she tailed off in embarrassment of not being able to speak the English in such a state and turned to Kitty who answered “she got here a couple hours ago and is staying a couple days”
--Fantastico, Ramona este es bonita! Que estás haciendo ahora? Can we go eat? Drink? Bebidas?
--Sí, sí, vamanos al cantina, mi amor... The purr, the purr...When I think of the Hindenbergian efforts my youth entailed dreaming up a woman like this one in my arms...
I thought of something my dad had said to me long ago when eminent nuclear war was bothering me... he said “Sometimes it is necessary to get in the Dragon’s pool and the Tiger’s lair...” He also said, “ah, the Russians couldn’t knock a sick whore off a piss pot, so don’t you worry too much...”
But drinks already? Sure, act in the world of danger with fine sensibilities, never take your eyemind off the focus of correct and compassionate action...sure, consume the poisons but keep the antidotes of sense and faith nearby...walk the edge of a long picket sword, remain in the sights of the sniper but remain aware, aware of Ramona’s archetype trouble, that pretty girls make graves—that above all else—refine the mind and await the time...for it is said that when difficulty is entered into with delight one forgets one’s death...and that is what we are all running around in circles from...silly death...the blackest of cocktails, the black Russian, the Dark and Stormy, tar, bile, night, suicide...refine the mind and await the time...regain your camel...
-Michael Price
