Heap is the poor boy at the party.
At least, he imagined he would be.
Like Sonny Crawford thinking black thoughts.
Just because he wasnít the captain of the football team.
Wasnít the date of the Homecoming Queen.† Homecoming
is the Feast of Bad Conscience.† Like Christmas.† Heap hated Christmas.
Bah, humbug.† He ate at a halfway house for recovering alcoholics.
The Palm Trail Lodge.† That was when he was getting sober in AA.
Every day is a gift.† There, but for the grace of God, go I:† an earth-person.
Heap augured in.† Then resurrected himself.† Now, he just didnít
give a shit if he lived or died.† It was almost over.
Mostly, he didnít drink.† The pleasure had gone out of it.
Once in a while he did, just to keep his hand in.
Like Lefty Frizzell robbing a filling station.
Bronislaw Malinowski wrote The Sexual Life of Savages
a sex life.† Even if itís mostly in their heads.† In memory.
They have performance issues long after they have quit performing.
Sir, are you a good lay?† Advertising drills it into you.
You must buy this product.† Must I?† Who says so?
I am hors de combat.
I am past all that.