William S. Burroughs - The Soft Machine

I was working the hole with the sailor and we did not do bad. Fifteen cents on an average night boosting the afternoons and short-timing the dawn we made out from the land of the free. But I was running out of veins. I went over to the counter for another cup of coffeein Joes Lunch Room drinking coffee with a napkin under the cup which is said to be the mark of someone who does a lot of sitting in cafeterias and lunchrooms

Waiting on the man What can we do? Nick said to me once in his dead junky whisper. They know well wait Yes, they know well wait There is a boy sitting at the counter thin-faced kid his eyes all pupil. I see he is hooked and sick. Familiar face maybe from the pool hall where I scored for tea sometime. Somewhere in grey strata of subways all-night cafeterias rooming house flesh. His eyes flickered the question. I nodded toward my booth. He carried his coffee over and sat down opposite me.

The croaker lives out Long Island light yen sleep waking up for stops. Change. Start.

Everything sharp and clear. Antennae of TV suck the sky. The clock jumped the way time will after four P.M.

The Man is three hours late. You got the bread?

I got three cents.

Nothing less than a nickel. These double papers he claims. I looked at his face. Good looking. Say kid I known an Old Auntie Croaker right for you like a Major Take the phone. I dont want him to rumble my voice.

About this time I meet this Italian tailor cum pusher I know from Lexington and he gives me a good buy on H At least it was good at first but all the time shorter and shorter

Short Count Tony we call him

Out of junk in East St. Louis sick dawn he threw himself across the washbasin pressing his stomach against the cool porcelain. I draped myself over his body laughing. His shorts dissolved in rectal mucus and carbolic soap, summer dawn smells from a vacant lot.

Ill wait here Dont want him to rumble me

Made it five times under the shower that day soapy bubbles of egg flesh seismic tremors split by fissure spurts of jissom

I made the street, everything sharp and clear like after rain. See Sid in a booth reading a paper his face like yellow ivory in the sunlight. I handed him two nickels under the table.

Pushing in a small way to keep up The Habit: INVADE. DAMAGE. OCCUPY. Young faces in blue alcohol flame.

And use that alcohol. You fucking cant wait hungry junkies all the time black up my spoons. Thats all I need for Pen Indef the fuzz rumbles a black spoon in my trap. The old junky spiel. Junk hooks falling.

Shoot your way to freedom kid.

Trace a line of goose pimples up the thin young arm. Slide the needle in and push the bulb watching the junk hit him all over. Move right in with the shit and suck junk through all the hungry young cells.

There is a boy sitting like your body. I see he is a hook. I drape myself over him from the pool hall. Draped myself over his cafeteria and his shorts dissolved in strata of subways..

.and all house flesh toward the boothdown opposite me The Man I Italian tailor.

.. I know bread. Me a good buy on H.

Youre quitting? Well I hope you make it, kid. May I fall down and be paralyzed if I dont mean it You gotta friend in me. A real friend and if.

Well the traffic builds up and boosters falling in with jackets shirts and ties, kids with a radio torn from the living car trailing tubes and wires, lush-workers flash rings and wrist watches falling in sick all hours. I had the janitor cooled, an old rummy, but it couldnt last with that crowd.

Say youre looking great kid. Now do yourself a favor and stay off. I been getting some really great shit lately. Remember that brown shit sorta yellow like snuff cooks up brown and clear

Junky in east bath room invisible and persistent dream body familiar face maybe..

. scored for some time or bodyin that grey smell of rectal mucus night cafeterias and junky room dawn smells, three hours from Lexington made it five times soapy egg flesh

These double papers he claims of withdrawal.

Well I thought you was quitting

I cant make it.*

Imposible quitar eso.

Got up and fixed in the sick dawn flutes of Ramadan.

William tu tomas ms medicina? No me hgas casa, William.

Casbah house in the smell of dust and we made it empty eukodal boxes stacked four feet along the wallsdead on the surplus blanketsgirl screaming vecinos rush in

What did she die of?

I dont know she just died.

Bill Gains in Mexico City room with his douche bag and his stash of codeine pills powdered in a bicarbonate can. Ill just say I suffer from indigestion. coffee and blood spilled all over the place, cigarette holes in the pink blanket The Consul would give me no information other than place of burial in The American Cemetery.

Broke? Have you no pride? Go to your Consul. He gave me an alarm clock ran for a year after his death.

Leif repatriated by the Danish, freight boat out of Casa for Copenhagen sank off England with all hands. Remember my medium of distant fingers?

What did she die of?

End.

Some things I find myself.

The Sailor went wrong in the end. hanged to a cell door by his principals: Some things I find myself doing Ill pack in is all.

Bread knife in the heartrub and dierepatriated by a morphine scriptthose out of Casa for Copenhagen on special yellow note

All hands broke? Have you no pride? Alarm clock ran for a year. He just sit down on the curb and die. Esperanza told me on Nino Perdido and we cashed a morphine script, those Mexican Nar. scripts on special yellow bank-note paperlike a thousand dollar bill or a Dishonorable Discharge from the US Army And fixed in the cubicle room you reach by climbing this ladder.

Yesterday call flutes of Ramadan: No me hgas casa.

Blood spill over shirts and light, the American trailing in form He went to Madrid.

This frantic Cuban fruit finds Kiki with a novia and stabs him with a kitchen knife in the heart. (Girl screaming. Enter the nabors.)

Qudase con su medicina, William.

Half bottle of Fundador after half cure in the Jew Hospital, shots of demerol by candlelight. They turned off the lights and water. Paper-like dust we made it. Empty walls. Look anywhere. No good. No bueno.

He went to Madrid Alarm clock ran for yesterday No me hgas casa. Dead on arrival you might say at the Jew Hospital blood spilled over the American

trailing lights and water The Sailor went so wrong somewhere in that grey flesh He just sit down on zero I nodded on Nio Perdido his coffee over three hours late They all went away and sent papers The Dead Man write for you like a major, .. Enter vecinos Freight boat smell of rectal mucus went down off England with all dawn smell of distant fingers About this time I went to your Consul. He gave me a Mexican after his death Five times of dust we made it, .. with soap bubbles of withdrawal crossed by a thousand junky nights Soon after the half maps came in by candlelight OCCUPY.

.. Junk lines falling Stay off Bill Gains in the Yellow Sickness Looking at dirty pictures casual as a ceiling fan short-timing the dawn we made it in the corn smell of rectal mucus and carbolic soap familiar face maybe from the vacant lot trailing tubes and wires You fucking-cant-wait-hungry-junkies! Burial in the American Cemetery. Qudase con su medicina.. On Nio Perdido the girl screaming They all went way through Casbah House Couldnt you write me any better than that? Gone away You can look any place.

No good. No Bueno.

You wouldnt believe how hot things were when I left the StatesI knew this one pusher wouldnt carry any shit on his person just shoot it in the lineTen twenty grains over and above his own absorption according to the route he was servicing and piss it out in bottles for his customers so if the heat came up on them they cop out as degeneratesSo Doc Benway assessed the situation and came up with this brain child