EMMYLOU MODIGLIANI
(letter from Jackson)
'First time I seen 'er she was
half not dressed, ooh-whee, a
nice site. That was at the end
of the second-year circus tour
in all them churches of the old.
Southwest we did with Reverend
Handlman. Went OK; and she
liked helping in the mess-tent
too. I never liked it. Not even
the name - they pretty much
tell you what's up, by using
the word 'mess,' wouldn't you
say? Nothing like handling
chunks of food left on forty-
five different plates. I mostly
stayed outside and worked on
things needing grease or oil.
Now that can sound messy too,
come to think about it, but it's
not really, because everything
has fittings and spouts and stuff,
so if you make a 'mess' it's your
own damn fault. Anyway, that's
as I see it. Half the stuff we
have to work with should be
junked anyway, but the line
boss here, Frank Marinetti, who
everyone likes to call 'Frankie'
but me - that sounds way too
chummy for me and he's always
been kind of a jerk, so it's just
Frank when I talk to him. He
never wants to spend a plug-nickel.
We're running town to town with
bad compressors, tanks that leak
fluids, tires that are bad, and the
rest. I'd love to see the books on
this operation - if it's making
any money, we never see it.
Town to town, moving all this
junk around, following the
seasonal calendar, watching
people lick ice cream and
custard and sugar cones
and popcorn all day. Man,
it sometimes makes me sick.
Carnivals and circuses, I bet
they don't even know the
difference. One has animals
and one don't. We get called
a circus, but we don't have
circus stuff at all - no lions
or rings or even elephants.
A few trained monkeys (no,
not people, real monkeys),
a few mules, but mostly just
rides and fools, like me, who
pretend to be doing both but
just play along. People just
want thrills - like the hairy
lady in our freak tent. Or
our version of Hercules,
some dumb-ass Russian
guy loaded with muscles -
so much he can actually
hardly move. Now that
guy's a freak show all by
himself. And - here's a
funny one - we had a true
fire eater once, really. He
died of heartburn. That
was before I started here
three Summer-circuits ago,
and I never seen one since
so I don't know if all that
is a made up story or what.
Maybe he stuck the fire
down too deep, I always
figured. Ah, who knows?
I don't care anyway. This is
all tired stuff, but getting to
see any little piece of Emmylou
is just fine and dandy for me.
I stay here doing this dope-trick,
leastways until something better
comes along. - Love, Jackson'
No comments:
Post a Comment