Grief

I can’t repeat a word of the sermon, not the size of a single fish we fried in thick, dark oil. We carried him on our shoulders, lowered him into the ground. The sky was rough. I went berserk and I cracked—— drifting for years in a thin, purple mist of thistles, opened up. It must have been Caesar who took me by the arm—— I’ve been looking for you, he said, as we went into the stadium and there, with the bodies and shadows spread out before us, I thrilled to the weight in my fist. Then it was Eve. She sat on my lap. For a hundred, she said (scratching down my arm) you can do whatever you want. We went around the corner and up the stairs. I fucked her so rough she was sobbing, but smiling too. When I finally looked into her eyes, my hands, around her neck, relaxed. She lay with her head on my chest. I want to see you again, she said. I stared up through the rust.