The Brooklyn Rail

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On the off ramp that her lead might volunteer some mention, I took the drive to Southold. Cruising the
L.I.E. my mind returned to the same question, —Should I drive so fast, after all the oil crisis, is that a
speed trap, don’t push this guy he’s crazy, why don’t I have air conditioning? It was a mystery. The only
thing was. Untouristy enough. This has got to be the. At last a roadside inn and bar run by three retired
impersonators. I sat down and ordered a beer. All the way back to the city I pondered the question,
—Should I signal, is this lane faster, will I get there by, should I use the exact change lane, was that
Patchogue?—
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In any case the subject filled (I out explain myself (heretofore, cool cryptic),) let me go now, details awry,
if you’d only remember, does her letter mean… Postmark, a sweep of the hand, bundled them into the car
at the time of the arrest, pushing down on the heads. Posh jail. Final solution : punch maw. Let him slum
himself. Elements of fire. Surrogate pesterer. We get back to where I was drinking coffee in front of the
radio. Discover first. Wet sentence each major clue. Wrung later. Your dollar. Waggled his head. —Well—
she said… Herman and Dahlia hung on the bar as I entered the Madonna Club. He put down telephone.
Muscles relaxed around her mouth and her eyes opened a little wider, causing mascara to flake, in her
own image. The word “oh” popped out like a pin had penetrated her gluteal epidermis. —The last I seen
her.— And Lieutenant Press, and Sergeant Dude, and the ballerina all left for Lake Winnipesaukee. (This
should please the French.) She looked at me again and again. So uncomfortable he had an air of ease.
(You don’t understand a word? Well, then, look at it that way.) Brute was puzzled by the Flako’s tone, but
nobody else blinked; it was all out front. That’s hard to say right now. A small man plush in the front,
dome top, all the air of straight surgery. All right he killed her and she killed him and he killed her and
then there was a gang-style execution and that about wraps it up for all except who wants still to know
what for. And to them I gives the...
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In any case the word you use a lot in this business takes on a new slant when applied. —You ain’t got no
style.— Try proof. By now I can smile. Meanwhile another worry lump sum, quanta. It was the kid, lethal
pigtails and jovial. I bent over double, irregardless the lease. There is no end to understanding, intended to
skip. Yes, in a way. How can they think enough will? There for some service. Allow me out, irrespective
odds, your histories and biographies, dream angel, it’s enough that. How please so can try? Let it seep in a
whole night coffee. Jealous motive moves his visit. (I told everyone I’d be one so now I’m being one.)
Relinquish hold now and lean back so the acrid smoke. Your lettuce. You letter. I present money, kisses,
water, leaning in occur for you. Two floors above hers. Let yourself down from expect, easily on your
daybed. Read the whole estate and you know who had a motive. Not to satisfy but to say, but… Sleuthing
the period for suffice.
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In any case I rummaged and tried the Murderer’s Times, some except anybody’s life. She stood tall, but
felt short, just you and me will go on being us. That maybe. But comes through rebus. (And then they
look and like a word, so give em.) Staring at nothing, where nothing edge, blank fad, really characterless
diamond cut, and a princess of absence : Wind blows meaningfully, now it moves forward, tracing toast
smells… As a doctor and his wound tended, we wrapped it up. Drinking us in toward a declaration of
space, a space we move, a space we bunch, a space wherein, a pretense for. San Francisco. I watch the
face accrete from his scratching… I made $1800 in fees and overcharged $435 worth of expenses. All in
all I felt satisfied with two months’ work. The pressure, the articles aligned, the creeps ensconced, the
letters aligned, the feeble dead, the rich aligned, the merchants relieved of some of the case, the self
aligned, the priest lost all his wares to me, the suffering aligned.
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In any case what wasn’t there? Oh you know I still love you very much, it’s just that, it must be my
digestion, weather isn’t my, I’d hoped we’d see each other again real soon. I’d made my play and you’d
made fun, at different times, sometimes the timing is off. Each wait until they had every little detail fixed
in? Never. The suspect’s done time, you too to see these upright citizens make a play at being. Yes, in a
way. OK with her. Now you are satisfied. Carried to the floor her feelings. I lifted her eyelid. Don’t say
boggle. Any invert. The phone rang. The answering service to find out if I was leaving. Then what he told
you this morning: We killed off a certain number. Next time we’ll get more. Simply in preparation? He
told her there was no question. He was wrong, make it question. She looked up at me and drooled a little
before she spoke.
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In any case decors shape and sate. Keep it aspiring. West left field. Where the blue cup grips, pretty and
honest, well sure, fine, but then how often would we edge closer. Always smiling to make sense or
pressure, pleasure, sump, braille, yes it is just… look at the words of his letter and it’s obvious that he
meant, did not mean. He left her no choice. He attempted her and she was tempted. We left field and
skirted the redoubt, finding along. Stumbled on a few and now centered in the ring of black and white
flashing bubble gum machines, blanket thrown over the whole obscenity to examine the nap. No science
really, no points like that, a look around like we expected to find us all eating granola a lovely morning,
sunny, dewy, birds and the like pointing and pointing and now it’s like this.
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In any case gets regular toward the end. Maybe someone did it. Maybe they had reasons. Maybe
they solve it. Maybe there’s no story otherwise. So what? Not for the story, not for you, not for me, an effort
pulling back covers to reveal the skinned remains.
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In any case he killed himself and they killed each other, so no one really was left but me with a bad taste,
too easy to sell, too east, too. But most of the people are out of their minds. Even the Texaco tanker
captain frisking off the Grand Banks and the mother of four in Colorado must.
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In any case spare them, deride their expectations as much as yours, perspicacious reader, who for a few
minutes at least, while sitting out on the stoop playing with your toes in the August night said an
ambulance rushed by. A turtle of two schools. I don’t know if I prefer the one proclaims the rich walled or
fools think so. No more waiting. Let’s get things out in the open