scene in a tent outside the cotton fields of Bakersfield:
we fought for 17 days inside that tent
thrusting and counter-thrusting
but finally she got away
and I walked outside
and spit
in the dirty sand.
Abdullah, I said, why don’t you
wash your shorts? you’ve been
wearing the same
shorts
for 17 years.
Effendi, he said, it’s the sun,
the sun cleans everything. what
went with the girl?
don’t know if I couldn’t
please her
or if I couldn’t
catch her. she was
pretty young.
what did she cost, Effendi?
17 camel.
he whistled through his broken
teeth. aren’t you going
to catch her?
howinthehell how? can I get
my camels back?
you are an American, he said.
walked into the tent
fell upon the ground
and held my head
within
my hands.
suddenly she burst within
the tent
laughing madly,
Americano,
Americano!
please
go away
said quietly.
men are, she said sitting down and rolling down
her stockings, some parts titty and some parts
tiger. you don’t mind
I roll down
my stockings?
don’t mind, I said,
you roll down the top
of your dress. whores are
always rolling down
their hose. please
go away. I read where
the cruiser crew passed the helmet
for the red cross; I think I’ll
have them pass it
to brace your flabby
butt.
have ’e m pass the helmet twice, dad,
she said, howcum you don’t love me
no more?
been thinking, I said,
how can Love have a urinary tract
and distended bowels?
pack up, daughter, and flow,
maneuver out of the mansions
of my sight!
you forget, daddy-o, we’re in
my tent!
oh, Christ, I said, the trivialities
of private ownership! where’s my
hat?
you were wearing a towel, dad, but
kiss me, daddy, hold me in your arms!
walked over and mauled her breasts.
drink too much beer, she said,
can’t help it if I
piss.
we fucked for 17 days.
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