The Soft Machine Read online

  Dust jissom in the bandanna trailing afternoon wind —under black Stetson peeled his stale underwear— Kerosene lamp spattered light on .22, delicate legs and brown flesh—clothes stiff in the locker room rubbing each other—sullen as the other two watched—Stranger dropped his pants

  —Brown hands spurt it to the chest—

  "Find time buyer—Start job—Image under the same position—Change place of your defense—"

  "A Johannesburg bidonville he was servicing—Customers shitting Nigger for an eyecup of degenerates— Ejaculated the next day as Johnny—Meal mouthed cunt suckers flow through you—

  This special breed spitting cotton travel on a radar beam of service proof shortbread—Shivering junk sick told your reporter the sex chucks hit us in heroin slow down—The paranoid ex-Communist was there—Rubbed Moscow up me with a corkscrew motion of his limestones—Split is the wast-ings of the pool game—irritably for Mexico—By now we had floppy city in the distance, 1920's faint and intermittent—The track gave out forever an inch from the false bottom—

  "They had torn down the transmitter—Rats was running the post—Somewhere North of Monterrey we meet in warring powers—Captured the spine clinic and cook down the prisoners for jelly—We are accused of soliciting with prehensile tree limbs—The first one dropped your defense his mouth bleeding—Got the rag on— Waiting to see this exhibit, dropped his pants and I came the spectroscope—You could smell it like a compost heap, pants just pulling in the winds of Panhandle

  —So we hit the Sacred Cotton Wood Grove—It's the only way to live—Jissom under the swamp cypress— and the warm Spring wind to feel my cock—(dead bird in the black swamp water)—He would flop around in the trees, come five times in his dry goods.

  "He told me he could fix back places—a little hut on the outskirts—pale blue sugary eyes that stuck to you —The Writer looked at both of us and smiled a low pressure area, switch paper in his hands

  —weak and intermittent before the pictures started coming in: 'Lawd Lawd have you seen my boy with his knees up to the chin pumping out spurts by the irrigation ditch?'

  "When I shot my load I was paralyzed from the medicine—Twisting in these spasms solid female siphoned out of me from the waist down—Shattering special type sex hangs from telegraph pole—

  And then I felt it way down in a carnival of splintered pink—

  "Cold mountain shadows in the attic—And I went back with the boy to his cellar—Wonder whatever happened to that boy could keep a hard-on all night?—A man comes back to something looking at the blue mountains—Same thing day after day—World messages on the shit house wall

  —Cock spurting limestone—Summer dawn smell of boy balls so that was that—This spot where a lot of citizens will not work in concert—I didn't —Out for groceries and decided to whimper on the boys—We found Mother Green in your rubble along with some others from his deserted cock—

  Disgusting metamorphosis and a cyclotron shit these characters—(You wouldn't have a rope would you?)—Maybe I'm asking too many agricultural—

  "Come level on average we'll hold that old cow in line—Put any image in the cold drink would you?— Wet back asleep with a hard-on was taken care of that way—Look, moving in whole armies and he sits me fishing lark—Silent and shaking things considered and we moved out hard—Around the other side piecing out the odds best we could—In the barn attic night and day smelling his thin cotton pants—He wakes buying it sight unseen.

  "Jimmy busy doing something feller say—boys streaked with coal dust—Maybe I'm asking too many— (You wouldn't have a rope would you?)—Well now that bedroom sitter boy his cock came up wet sleep-Smiling looks at his crotch—Peeled slow and touch it— Springs out hard—Turns me around the end of his cock glistening—That smell through the dingy room clings to him like—Raw and peeled came to the hidden gallows—Open door underneath to cut down ghost assassins—Odor of semen drifts in the brain—Jimmy with cruel idiot smile shacks elbows twisting him over on his candy—Found a pajama cord and tied the boy— Jimmy lay there and suck his honey—Must have blacked out in the Mandrake Pub—So called Rock and Rollers crack wise on a lumpy studio bed with old shoes and overcoat some one cope—The boy wakes up paralyzed in hock—Sorted out name you never learned to use—Them marketable commodities turn you on direct connection come level on average—Whiff of dried jissom in the price—I was on the roof so sweet young breath came through the time buyer—

  "The gate in white flames—Early answer to the boy wakes naked—Down on his stomach is he?—

  Ah there and iron cool in the mouth—Come see me tonight in bone wrenching spasms—Silver light pops something interesting—The boy features being younger of course —To your own people you frantic come level on average —Wait a bit—No good at this rate—Try one if you want worthless old shit screaming without a body—Roll two years operation completed—We are? Well the wind up is who?— Quién es? —World's End as a boy in drag retired to the locker—My page deals so many tasty ways on the bed—You know—Eyes pop out—Candy and cigarettes what? Rectum open, the warm muscle boy rampant and spitting adolescent image—Hot semen amuck in Panama

  —Scenic railways when their eyes pop out—Know the answer?—Two assholes and a mandrake—

  They'll do it every time—Rock and Rollers crack wise with overwhelming Minraud girl, wipe their ass on the women's toilet—And the boy wakes up paralyzed from arsenic and bleeding gums—

  Remember there is only one visit of a special kind—Flesh juice vampires is rotten smell of ice—No good no bueno outright or partially.

  "Reason for the change of food he is subject to take back the keys—Square fact is that judges like it locked —Acting physician at Dankmoor fed up you understand until I die—End getting to know whose hanged man—One more chance still?—Come back to the Spanish bait, hard faced matron bandages the blotter—The shock when your neck breaks is far away—In this hotel room you are already dead of course—Boy stretches a leg, his cock flipped out—But uh well you see sputter of burning insect wings—"

  In the sun at noon shirt open Kiki steps forward— With a wriggle stood naked spitting over the tide flats bare feet in dog's excrement—washed back on Spain repeat performance page.

  Early Answer

  Predated checks bounce all around us in green place by the ball park—Come and jack off—passport vending machines—Jimmy walked along North End Road— (Slow-motion horses pulling carts—

  boys streaked with coal dust)—a low-pressure area and the wind rising— Came to the World's End Pissoir and met a boy with wide shoulders, black eyes glinting under the street lights, a heavy silk scarf tucked into his red- and white-striped T-shirt—In the bedroom sitter the boy peeled off his clothes and sat down naked on the bed blowing cigarette smoke through his pubic hairs—His cock came up in the smoke—Switchblade eyes squinted, he watched with a smile wasn't exactly a smile as Jimmy folded his clothes—Raw and peeled, naked now his cock pulsing—Jimmy picked up his key and put it in his mouth sucking the metal taste—The other sat smoking and silent—A slow drop of lubricant squeezed out the end of his cock glistening in light from the street— Shutters clattered in the rising wind—A rotten vegetable smell seeped through the dingy room, shadow cars moved across the rose wall paper—

  K9 had an appointment at The Sheffield Arms Pub but the short wave faded out on the location—

  Somewhere to the left? or was it to the right?—On? Off? North End Road?—He walked through empty market booths, shutters clattering—Wind tore the cover off faces he passed raw and peeled

  —Came to World's End wind blowing through empty time pockets—No Sheffield Arms—Back to his room full of shadows—There he was sitting on the bed with the smile that wasn't exactly a smile

  —At the washbasin a boy was using his toothbrush—

  "Who are these people?"

  The boy turned from the washbasin "You don't remember me?—Well we met in a way that is"—

  The t
oothbrush in his hand was streaked with blood.

  Jimmy sat down on the bed his rectum tingling—The other picked up his scarf from a chair and ran it through his fingers looking at Jimmy with a cruel idiot smile— His hands closed on Jimmy's elbows twisting him over on his stomach down on the bed—The boy found a pajama cord and tied Jimmy's hands behind his back— Jimmy lay there gasping and sucked the key, tasting metal in his mouth—The other saddled Jimmy's Body—

  He spit on his hands and rubbed the spit on his cock— He placed his hands on Jimmy's ass cheeks and shoved them apart and dropped a gob of spit on the rectum— He slid the scarf under Jimmy's hips and pulled his body up onto his cock—Jimmy gasped and moved with it—The boy slid the scarf up along Jimmy's body to the neck—

  He must have blacked out though he hadn't had much to drink at the pub—two so-called double brandies and two Barley wines—He was lying on a lumpy studio bed in a strange room—familiar too—in shoes and overcoat—someone else's overcoat—such a coat he would never have owned himself—a tweedy loose-fitting powder-blue coat—K9 ran to tight-fitting black Chesterfields which he usually bought secondhand in hock shops—He had very little money for clothes though he liked to dress in "banker drag" he called it—black suits—expensive ties and linen shirts— Here he was in such a coat as he would never voluntarily have owned or worn—someone else's room—

  bed sitter—cheap furniture suitcases open—K9 found two keys covered with dust on the mantel—

  Sat down convenient and sorted out his name—

  "You never learned to use your Jimmy—slow with the right—there will be others behind him with the scarf— We met you know in a way that is in the smell of wine— You don't remember me?"

  Taste of blood in his throat familiar too—and overcoat—someone else's—streaked with coal dust—

  The bed sitter boy as it always does folded his clothes—Lay there gasping fresh in today—

  "Went into what might be called the comfortable and got myself a flat jewelry lying about wholesale side— Learned how to value them marketable commodities come level on average—well groceries—She started screaming for a respectable price—I was on the roof so I had to belt her—

  Find a time buyer before doing sessions—There's no choice if they start job for instance —Have to let it go cheap and start further scream along the line—one or two reliable thieves—Work was steady at the gate to meet me—early answer to use on anyone considering to interfere—Once in a while I had to put it about but usually what you might call a journeyman thief—It was done so modern and convenient—Sorted out punishment and reward lark—On, off? the bed down on his stomach is he? Ah there you are behind him with the scarf—Hands from 1910—There's no choice if took off his clothes—Have to let it go cheap and start naked."

  Twisted the scarf tighter and tighter around Jimmy's neck—Jimmy gasped coughing and spitting, face swollen with blood—His spine tingled—Coarse black hair suddenly sprouted all over him.

  Canines tore through his gum with exquisite toothache pain—He kicked in bone wrenching spasms.

  Silver light popped in his eyes.

  He decided to take the coat with him—Might pass someone on the stairs ^nd they would think he was the tenant since the boy resembled him in build and features being younger of course but then people are not observant come level on average—Careful—

  "Careful—Watch the exits—wait a bit—no good at this rate—Watch the waves and long counts—

  no use moving out—try one if you want to—all dies in convulsions screaming without a body—

  Know the answer? —arsenic two years: operation completed—We are arsenic and bleeding gums—

  Who? Quién es?—World's End loud and clear—so conjured up wide shoulders and black eyes glinting—shadow cars through the dingy room—My page deals the bedroom sitter out of suitcase here on the bed where you know me with cruel idiot smile as Jimmy's eyes pop out—Silk scarf moved up rubbing—Pubic hair sprouted all over him tearing the flesh like wire—Eyes squinted from a smell I always feel—Hot spit burned his rectum open—The warm muscle contracts—

  Kicked breathless coughing and spitting adolescent image blurred in film smoke— through the gums the fist in his face—taste of blood— His broken body spurted life in other flesh—identical erections kerosene lamp—electric hair sprouted in ass and genitals—taste of blood in the throat—

  Hot semen spurted idiot mambo—one boy naked in Panama —Who?— Quién es?—Compost heap stench where you know me from—a smell I always feel when his eyes pop out—"

  "Know the answer? arsenic two years: goof ball bum in 1910 Panama. They'll do it every time—

  Vampires is no good all possessed by overwhelming Minraud girl—"

  "Are you sure they are not for protection?"

  "Quite sure—nothing here but to borrow your body for a special purpose: ('Excellent—Proceed to the ice.') —in the blood arsenic and bleeding gums—They were addicted to this round of whatever visits of a special kind—An errand boy of such a taste took off his clothes —Indications enough naked now his cock healed scar tissue—Flesh juice vampires is no good—all sewage— sweet rotten smell of ice—no use of them better than they are—The whole thing tell you no good no bueno outright or partially."

  "Reasons for the change of food not wholly disinterested—The square fact is that judges like a chair

  —For many years he used Parker—Fed up with present food in the Homicide Act and others got the job—So think before time that abolition is coming anyway after that, all the Top Jobbies would like to strike a bargain in return for accepting the end of hanging—Generous? Nothing—I wasn't all that far from ebbing in position—"

  "Have to move fast—Nail that Broker before they get to him—Doing him a favor any case—"

  He found the Broker in a café off the Socco—heavy with massive muscled flesh and cropped grey hair—K9 stood in the shadow and tugged his mind screen—The Broker stood up and walked down an alley—K9 stepped out of the shadows in his new overcoat—

  "Oh it's you—Everything all right?—"

  K9 took off his hat respectfully and covered his gun with it—He had stuffed the hat with the Green Boy's heavy silk scarf—a crude silencer but there was nobody in the alley—It wasn't healthy to be within earshot when the Broker had business with anyone—He stood with the hat an inch from the Broker's mid section— He looked into the cold grey eyes—

  "Everything is just fine," he said—

  And pumped three Police Specials into the massive stomach hard as a Japanese wrestler—The Broker's mouth flew open sucking for breath that did not come— K9 gave him three more and stepped aside—The Broker folded, slid along a wall and flopped face up his eyes glazing over—Lee dropped the burning hat and scarf on a pile of excrement and walked out of the alley powder smoke drifting from his cheap European suit— He walked toward flesh of Spain and Piccadilly—

  "Wind hand to the hilt—Fed up you understand until I die—Work we have to do and way got the job—End getting to know whose reports are now ended—'One more change,' he said, 'touching circumstance'—Have you still—Come back to the Spanish bait it's curtains under his blotter."

  Who? Quién es?—Question is far away—In this hotel room you are writing whiffs of Spain—Boy stretches a leg—His cock flipped out in the kerosene lamp—sputter of burning insect wings—

  Heard the sea—tin shack over the mud flats—erogenous holes and pepper smells—

  In the sun at noon shirt open as his pants dropped— lay on his stomach and produced a piece of soap— rubbed the soap in—He gasped and moved with it—whiffs of his feet in the warm summer afternoon—

  Who? Quién es? It can only be the end of the world ahead loud and clear—

  Kiki steps forward on faded photo—pants slipping down legs with a wriggle stood naked spitting on his hands—Shot a bucket grinning—over the whispering tide flats youths in the act, pants down, bare feet in dog's excrement—
Street smells of the world siphoned back red-and-white T-shirt to brown Johnny—that stale dawn smell of naked sleep under the ceiling fan— Shoved him over on his stomach kicking with slow pleasure—

  "Hooded dead gibber in the turnstile—What used to be me is backward sound track—fossil orgasm kneeling to inane cooperation." wind through the pissoir— " J'aime ces types vicieux qu'ici montrent la bite"— green place by the water pipe—dead leaves caught in pubic hairs—"Come and jack off—

  1929"—Woke in stale smell of vending machines—The boy with grey flannel pants stood there grinning a few inches in his hand— Shadow cars and wind through other flesh—came to World's End. Brief boy on screen revolving lips and pants and forgotten hands in countries of the world—

  On the sea wall met a boy in red-and-white T-shirt under a circling albatross—"Me Brown Meester?"— warm rain on the iron roof—The boy peeled his stale underwear—Identical erection flipped out in kerosene lamp—The boy jumped on the bed, slapped his thighs: "I screw Johnny up ass? Así como perros"—Rectums merging to idiot Mambo—one boy naked in Panama dawn wind

  —

  In the hyacinths the Green Boys smile—Rotting music trailing vines and birdcalls through remote dreamy lands —The initiate awoke in that stale summer dawn smell, suitcases all open on a brass bed in Mexico—In the shower a Mexican about twenty, rectums naked, smell of carbolic soap and barrack toilets—

  Trails my summer dawn wind in other flesh strung together on scar impressions of young Panama night— pictures exploded in the kerosene lamp—open shirt flapping in the pissoir—cock flipped out and up— water from his face—sex tingled in the boy's slender tight ass—

  "You wanta screw me?"

  "Breathe in, Johnny—Here goes—"

  They was ripe for the plucking forgot way back yonder in the corn hole—lost in little scraps of delight and burning scrolls—through the open window trailing swamp smells and old newspapers—

  rectums naked in whiffs of raw meat—genital smells of the two bodies merge in shared meals and belches of institution cooking—spectral smell of empty condoms down along penny arcades and mirrors—Forgotten shadow actor walks beside you—mountain wind of Saturn in the morning sky