A hole

 

 

The jeans are in a Sullivan’s sack, folded like stacked seat cushions. He is inviting me to try them on.

 

I keep taking my pants off for Larry. Not worried about what he will see. Keep trying on the contents in the sack, hoping that they will fit.

 

After all, he has fed me. He has given me the one mineral sustenance needed to thrive.

 

I unzip my current pair of jeans and slice into a new pair. My penis, dangling like a bookmark between the folds of my thighs as I flap open the jeans and, one leg balanced out like a ballet rail, slide the thick denim cloth over my frisked kneecaps. Larry looks at me. His rubicund pumpkin face lets go of a full smile.

 

 

                                                            *

“It was the best 100 dollars I ever spent.” Larry said. He said he took all ones.

 

                                                            *

 

The moisture polluting both the inside of my chest and the inside of my tear ducks is beginning to precipitate. I am shoving my head deep into the pillow, wondering, now that I have flown North and found out that the contents of my heart desire nothing to do with mw, wondering, now, where I am to go.

 

 

                                                *

 

Eric Batton still pretends to be boner Bob. He holds the long, wooden pole in fornt of his crotch, laughing. Looking at me.

 

“Have you ever seen what girls have?” He inquires. It’s been a few years since Amanda. I say no.

 

“They have a hole.” He says.

 

“How do you know?” I ask.

 

“I saw it when my sister and I were playing Doctor our neighbor.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah,” He says, moving the six foot pole in fornt of his crotch again. “All that they really have is a hole.”

 

            *

 

            “I gotta take a piss.” Karl says, turning around on the sidewalk and letting it rip.

 

            “Karl,” I say. “I’m not proud of my behavior.” I say, still tasting Caroline’s breath, still inwardly grooving to Mumbo # 5. Still thinking about the way her lips cut into her face, blossomed into a gnawing split as my tongue entered her. I am still thinking about all of this as I can hear Karl zipping north and then proudly burping afterwards.

 

            “Oh, you had fun.” He says. The two us continue to stroll underneath the hushed heads of the streetlamps, stumbling back to Clare’s, back to my apartment.

 

            “Yeah,” I inwardly assent and smile, still thinking about Caroline. “I had fun.” 

 

                                                            *

 

            “No way,” He looks at me, his cigar lodged in his lips, reprieved momentarily form between his face. “NO fuckin’ way.”

 

                                                            *

 

            “They have a hole." He says to me again, laughing.