Нагой обед [Naked Lunch] - Берроуз Уильям Сьюард 2 стр.


"( Note:Catnipsmellslikemarijuanawhen it

burns.Frequentlypassedontheincautiousorunin-

structed. )

"Well,"Isaid,tappingmyarm,"dutycalls.Asone

judge saidto another:'Be justand ifyou can'tbe just,

be arbitrary.' "

Icutintothe automatand thereis BillGains huddled

insomeoneelse'sovercoatlookinglikea1910banker

withparesis,andOldBart,shabbyandinconspicuous,

dunkingpoundcakewithhisdirtyfingers,shinyover

the dirt.

IhadsomeuptowncustomersBilltookcareof,and

Bartknewafewoldrelicsfromhopsmokingtimes,

spectraljanitors,greyasashes,phantomporters sweep-

ingoutdustyhallswithaslowold man'shand, cough-

ingandspittingin thejunk-sick dawn,retired asthmatic

fencesintheatricalhotels,PantoponRosetheold

madamfromPeoria,stoicalChinesewaitersnevershow

sickness.Bartsoughtthemoutwithhis oldjunky walk,

patient and cautious and slow, dropped intotheir blood-

less hands a few hours of warmth.

Imade theround withhim oncefor kicks.You know

howoldpeopleloseallshameabout eating,and it

makesyoupuketowatchthem?Oldjunkiesare the

same about junk. They gibber and squealat sightof it.

The spit hangs off their chin, and theirstomach rumbles

and all their guts grind inperistalsis whilethey cook

up,dissolving thebody's decentskin, youexpect any

momentagreat blobof protoplasmwill Hopright out

and surround the junk. Really disgust you to see it.

"Well, my boys will belike thatone day,"I thought

philosophically. "Isn't life peculiar?"

SobackdowntownbytheSheridanSquareStation

in case the dick is lurking in a broom closet.

Like I say it couldn't last. I knew they were out there

powowingandmakingtheirevilfuzzmagic,putting

dolls of me in Leavenworth. "Nouse stickingneedles in

that one, Mike."

I hear theygot Chapinwith adoll. Thisold eunuch

dick just sat in the precinct basement hanging adoll of

himday andnight, yearin yearout. Andwhen Chapin

hanged in Connecticut, they find this old creepwith his

neck broken.

"He fell downstairs," theysay. Youknow theold cop

bullshit.

Junkissurroundedby magicand taboos,curses and

amulets.IcouldfindmyMexicoCityconnectionby

radar.

Junkissurroundedby magicand taboos,curses and

amulets.IcouldfindmyMexicoCityconnectionby

radar. "Not this street, the next, right... now left. Now

right again," and there he is,toothless oldwoman face

and cancelled eyes.

Iknowthisonepusherwalksaroundhumminga

tune and everybody hepasses takesit up.He isso grey

andspectralandanonymoustheydon'tseehimand

thinkitistheirownmindhummingthe tune.So the

customerscomeinon Smiles,or I'min the1Mood for

Love,orTheySayWe'reTooYoungtoGoSteady, or

whatever the songis forthat day.Sometime youcan see

maybefifty ratty-lookingjunkies squealingsick, running

alongbehindaboy witha harmonica,and thereis The

Manona caneseat throwingbread tothe swans,a fat

queendragwalkinghisAfghanhoundthroughthe East

Fifties, an old wino pissing against an El post,a radical

Jewish studentgiving outleaflets inWashington Square,

a tree surgeon,an exterminator,an advertisingfruit in

Nedick'swherehecallsthecountermanbyhisfirst

name.Theworldnetworkofjunkies,tunedona cord

of rancid jissom,tying upin furnishedrooms, shivering

inthejunk-sick morning.(Old Petemen suckthe black

smokeintheChinklaundrybackroomandMelancholy

Baby dies froman overdoseof timeor coldturkey with-

drawalofbreath.)InYemen,Paris, NewOrleans, Mex-

ico Cityand Istanbul-- shiveringunder theair hammers

andthesteamshovels,shriekedjunkycursesatone

anotherneitherofusheard,andTheManleaned out

of a passing steam roller and I coped ina bucketof tar.

(Note:Istanbulisbeingtorndown andrebuilt, espe-

ciallyshabbyjunkquarters.Istanbulhasmore heroin

junkiesthanNYC.) Theliving andthe dead,in sick-

nessoronthe nod,hooked orkicked orhooked again,

comeinonthe junkbeam andthe Connectionis eating

ChopSueyonDoloresStreet,MexicoD.F.,dunking

poundcakeintheautomat,chasedupExchangePlace

byabayingpackofPeople.(Note:PeopleisNew

Orleans slang for narcotic fuzz. )

TheoldChinamandipsriverwaterinto arusty tin

can, washesdown ayen poxhard andblack asa cinder.

( Note: Yen pox is the ash of smoked opium. )

Well,thefuzzhas myspoon anddropper, andI know

theyarecominginonmy frequencyled bythis blind

pigeonknownasWillytheDisk.

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