Bottom Dog

 

NO END is like Post Office, Women, and Factotum

rolled into one.  I was always the low man on

the totem pole.  The bottom chicken in the pecking order.

The outlaw in their stock.  The least, the last, and the lost.

I don’t know if I sought this, or it just naturally happened.

An ethnography of urban nomads is called You Owe Yourself

A Drunk.  Eric Hoffer wrote The True Believer working as

a longshoreman.  Philip Wylie wrote Crunch and Des stories

before he wrote Generation of Vipers.  Theodore Pratt wrote

Handsome.  I was kind of dufous.  I looked like Baby Huey.

 

 

 

 

Kurt Vonnegut told Charles Willeford to write about

successful people.  Not losers.  Junior Frenger and Pepper was

a Hollywood love story.  They wanted a house with a white picket fence.

The middle-class life they had been living lulled Junior into a false sense

of security.  A 4x4 came after him through a plate-glass window.

Then the prison commandant from Seven Beauties cut his fingers off

with a machete.  Shirley Stoler.  Then Hoke Moseley shot him

in cold blood because Junior beat the shit out of him,

and stole his false teeth.

Law and Order

chez Miami Blues.

Film as literary allusion.

 


 

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