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What's New Rauschenberg: A Retrospective
When the grease-slick honky dude jabbed me with his spike I knew I’d been hit with some mind bending jazz ‘specially when my eyes was spinnin & my blood pounded down my ears & all my dancin’ & jigglin’ couldn’t drop him waving that fat syringe round his head like a lariat or pizza pie stretched wide to hold everything deluxe & I thought he could’ve kept this up all night & onto tomorrow but for some unknown reason he booked or maybe I jus lost track wanderin’ through back alleys into the dawn naked & bleeding from those little pricks & scratches & when you found me on Wednesday smelling of shit – mine & the dog’s & hosing me down & strapping me in & shuttlin’ me off to God knows what you had in mind but finding myself here in the sunlight circled by grazin’ beasts I can’t help but be impressed with yer good sense perseverance & timing & even if that son-of-a-bitch with the rovini fit were to surface right now I don’t think I’d care nearly as much knowin’ that you were close by with your razor or another good hosin in the works & Monica your quick tongued little tart with the cute tits & an ass you could ride like the wind to nirvana & back spreading her spunk like glue to a danglin man’s tether holding him aloft like a balloon about to burst with the good times rollin on & her kiss that blast to the gonads I swear it ran the gamut of nerves from lip to sphincter pumping every drowsy end awake & at attention as enthusiastic as a battalion about to leap on a weekend pass to oblivion or was it Shirley that snake you say you taught to slither up over on around & into every orifice titillating each protuberance as if she were erecting endless cities of skin stretched to shimmering in the day-glow orange of these heady afternoons with their remarkable resemblance to paradise or Bobby if you like it that way strutting his stuff for Florence & the girls or boys who could take it or took it anyway it came rutting his way up & down the line like some misguided missile lighting on one island after another until he couldn’t stop & finally exploding in the nearest nest dripping a veritable torrent of bliss like a rush of Pina-Colada to a bevy of thirsty sand pipers beach bums & assorted hangers-on / Oh Bobby they wailed watching him drown in his own gush of phosphorus like a spectacular roman candle about to fly but whatever your plan it suits this chattering fool just fine dozing here in the last warm light of a full bodied afternoon juggling memories for all who’ll take the time to share a few & like any good conductor I let them until I’m reminded of the time in Juarez when a monkey got tangled in Jill’s hair and Jim strangled the beast just-like-that before his keeper even caught his breath & Warren telling the one about the time he ate a tab of blotter and bolted through their living-room window & into his aunt Harriet’s geraniums thinking all the while he was headed to a meeting with fate in a Brazilian jungle where he’d take the hand of a bride who knew the secret to eternal orgasm & gold to cover his every whim & Oh how well I know if it weren’t for you I’d be just another black hole sucking up strength for one last run at a comeback or like any over-the-hill slugger waiting in the wings for some lost groupie or a company to rent his name for a bat or card or needle to exchange & yes these days I often wonder whether he’ll come back my doctor-feel-good prancing & dancing his way through my veins till I’m high enough to forget to duck & Monica & Shirley & Bobby & the whole gang bolt for the door where I’m trapped underfoot & never have another chance before the lights go out for good. Witness If I could tell you. If I thought you might believe me. If I could remember. 1] I think she was alone. Yes. & I think there were two men or, maybe, women. I’m never certain anymore. & she seemed happy to be there. Very happy. But who can be sure? I carry my own weight, as they say & never intrude . . . but it was her, I swear. & I would do it again if I could but it’s too late. But, it was her, I swear & when they began to cross the bridge I noticed a light & then a sound I’m not used to & Yes. there was an explosion & there were flames & the building collapsed & all I remember was the cloud it raised & the eventual silence . . . & sirens – they came later & I looked down to see her again & she was gone. 2] It was a clear night. I remember. The moon was full & in spite of the glare from the city, there were even a few stars & I did see her. I’m sure. She was with a crowd from the opera or symphony. I don’t go anymore. & she was wearing a black leather trench coat, the kind you see in foreign movies from the 40’s & she was on the arm of a woman in red . . . Yes. A red smock, the kind a painter wears & they were kissing & I was entranced & then they stopped & the fire & the explosion & I ran & No. I haven’t seen either of them. 3] I know her. Yes! Very well. & she can’t be trusted. I remember a time when she could but that was years ago . . . That night, Yes. I remember. She was with him & they had left the party early, early enough to have been there. I know. I was there too. & the next thing I know, they were running & there was the explosion & the rush of hot air & I fell & when I could get up I saw them – I’m sure it was them – running away & laughing. 4] I was with her. Yes. Hand in hand. We had much to talk about & much to settle & it was between us & no one else & when we left the lounge we walked, as we’ve often done, to the park & stopped for a crepe & a coffee & after a while – oh, maybe thirty minutes, we walked to the river & started across the bridge & stopped to watch the passing skulls & the fisherman reeling in for the night & we walked further & it was then it happened & we fell to the road & held each other & I heard her pray. 5] Of course it was her. Who else do you think. She’s been planning this for months & she had the time & the connections. I should know. She confided in me. I’ve spent the last six months following her & to be sure, I’ve hired others & rented rooms close by . . . & to think you let her slip through . . . & Why? Why now? Why come with your lame excuses & theories & no one to back you up . . . where were you when I was there & ready & could have stopped it all – could have saved the day. 6] You must be nuts. Her. No way. She hasn’t been home let alone here for weeks. I know. I live next door & we usually have coffee in the morning & maybe a croissant or two & No. In fact, the last I time we met in the market & she was complaining about the heat & how a trip to the mountains was what she needed & asked me to feed her cat, Salome, but changed her mind & said an aunt would do it or she would take it to the kennel & now you ask me – HA. Who do you think she is . . .? & if so, you are mistaken! 7] Women. I’m not certain how many but quite a few & after ten. Yes. I’m certain. The news was on in my car & I remember the chimes from St. Michael’s & they were walking & one had a lantern & swung it like a sensor & they stopped & formed a circle & one came to the center & picked a partner & held her close & the rest swirled around them & then the explosion & the smoke & I couldn’t see. 8] Why do you ask so many questions? & why do you look so hard for me? I’m here. I live where I’ve always lived & have not hidden from you or anyone else. But you insist on asking others instead of coming to me & I resent that. How dare you. You have no right. & Now. Here I am. What do you want of me? Is it that night? Is that what you want? To know that night . . . I’ll tell you but not because I think you deserve it . . . it’s for myself that I will tell you.
I was walking along the river & stopped for a cigarette when I saw a man rowing across the river which is odd since most rowers go up & down but this one was rowing across & when he disappeared in the fog I left for the café where they know me well & I sat in my usual seat near the door & when it happened, I don’t know, the windows shook & we all hid our faces & someone cried “God” & then the police & I don’t know what else. 9] May I speak? Thank you. In fact, there was no woman. Yes, that’s right. No Woman. In fact, there was no one on the bridge that night. How do I know? I’m the attendant for that bridge & at precisely ten o’clock I chained the gate to that walk & within an hour, all the others as well. If she was there – if anyone was on the bridge, they had to climb over my gate or swim & climb up & the current is strong – as you should know. WINNEMUCCA I want to tell you about that time in Winnemucca . . . it was July & I was on my way to visit mother & I’d rolled into a Exxon in the middle of the day, Tuesday, I think, & the attendant asks if I’d like to visit the local whorehouse & I say, No, but, while I’m waiting for the bill, I think it might not be a bad idea with the temperature near ninety-eight & they’re bound to have air-conditioning & it’s just down the street & to the right, he says & I pull up in front & it’s a white clapboard house in the middle of the block, so I knock & the woman who opens the door is wearing a simple housecoat with flowers & clouds & a five pointed star on a very large gold chain & I tell her the gas station & she brings me into a room filled with perfume & its darker than I expect & I have to blink a few times & take the seat she offers, not hers, but one at a bar where she sets up a cold beer & introduces me to a few of the women walking by & one, petite & young with frosted blond hair, sits on my left & another much darker who says she’s part Cherokee & full breasted sits at my right & one at a time then both at once they kiss my neck & want to know what I like & would I come upstairs & see the rooms & maybe since it was so warm & they’re from Louisiana I might buy them a mint-julep & I do & we walk upstairs where they have a bath in each room & they take off all their clothes & so do I & we climb into the big tub & soap each other really well & rinse & climb onto the large round bed & first one then the other take their turn on me, first, with their hands & then with their mouths & occasionally they stop to kiss each other & fondle each other & I sip my beer & my mint-julep & I’m very hot & my cock is straining & one slips on a condom & eases me into her & the other comes from behind & begins to lick where I can’t see but can only feel & I don’t want this to end so we switch & I bury my head between the legs of the blond & the other takes me in her mouth & we switch again & I want this to go on but my time is almost up & I ask for more & pay more & they want to show me another part of the house & I don’t want this to end so I follow them naked & straining up another flight of stairs & I smell oranges & there’s Veronica from American History 102 & she’s straddling a large man with a hairy back & calling him Jack & it’s Jack Hammer from the science lab who could always make things explode & she’s sliding up & down on his prick & I think I smell roasted squid & tomatoes & onions & the girls have me between them again & take me to another room where I see mother watching a movie of two dogs fucking in the street & she’s eating a bowl of chocolate ice cream & nibbling lemon cookies & I call to her but she doesn’t seem to hear & the brunette with the full breasts has slipped her arm around me & is delicately probing my ass with a cool & slippery finger & I’m getting very excited again so we stop & the blond kneels down & takes me in her mouth & now it doesn’t take very long with her squeezing me with her tongue & her hands on my balls & the brunette in my ass & as much as I hated it all to end I was going & would & could have . . . & . . .then . . . they just stop & now there are four of them & they lead me into another room where they’ve set up a film projector & put me between them on another round bed & begin to massage me with oils & I smell almond & strawberry & the lights go out & the film begins to roll & they are the stars of the film with a donkey & a football team & each other on the beach & I see myself walking out of the swamp with my pet monkey, Archie, on my shoulder & in the next frame I have Barbara from Accounting on my lap & she’s pressing her naked breast against my mouth which opens & I begin to suck her nipple when a wave washes over us & there’s a blanket on white sand & it’s not Barbara on the blanket but these four girls from Winnemucca & I come by at a run with cops on my heels & they join me & run out the back door of the house & into a Buick Skylark & we’re down the road & headed toward the mountains where it’s cooler & we climb the first rise & the next & the next brings us to a hot spring with a cool stream that runs alongside & we climb into the bath & now there’s just Mona & me & it’s dark & I can hear the call of the loon across the lake & the swoop & swish of owls & up ahead the silhouette of a doe & her fawn & she suggests we walk & we do down the path to a lighted street at the edge of the town where my car is parked with the motor running & mother’s in the back working a crossword puzzle & Mona slips in & so do I & she wants to do it here on the street under the lamp so I let her but I want to too so we both do in a tangle of legs & the gearshift & we’re up-side down or at least I am when I hear a siren very far off & a bugle & the tramp-tramp-tramp of marching feet & when I look up we’re in the middle of a parade & mother’s in the lead & the girls from Winnemucca & Mona & I are on a bed & we’re naked & she’s on top & sliding up & down & the crowd is cheering & the band kicks it up a notch & I shift into first & head for the highway & a straight shot to Reno where I can start fresh & get pretty goods odds on whose in charge.
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