THE SUM OF
THE HARLOT
Budweiser trucks are lined up in buckets; the guy
wearing shorts is working the spigots. It must be
the universal day of keg party infamy. Fifteen
thousand half-drunks in one or two leaky
Porta-Johns waiting. Like Popes or something:
Porta John the twenty-third. I think I have to go.
-
Heavenly headache, would you look it that - that
girl is barely dressed and thank God for the heat of
this day. Sombrero or cowboy hat, either was, not
much else. All these stupid guys, dazed and in line.
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