14,002. SANS APPLIQUE, YOU CANNOT COME IN

SANS APPLIQUE, YOU 

CANNOT COME IN

Here's the heart of the mater: I actually

have little idea what that means. A tattoo

at the gate of Heaven? Some paperwork

with a seal, for Hell? Annotations to

the Gospels Of Sri Ramakrishna?

-

Whatever it is, that's as far as I go.

Instead I'm using my time to tell you

things  -  not idle things, but not overtly

important either. (Though they are to me,

the need not mean anything to you).

-

 I live here. I used to live there. I've

visited numerous places over time,

and keep a recollection of just about

all. My notebooks would sizzle a cat.

-

I remember this girl in Georgia, at some

motel or other, along the way. Off 95, but

near Savannah too. January 3, 2015, I'm

guessing. That's fairly precise, and it's

probably right. 7pm, maybe. She knocked

meekly at the door, a tiny, thin, black girl,

and asked if I'd like her to come back,

maybe about 9, so we could 'party.'

-

Somehow I know exactly what that meant.

It's it's an unwritten code. Genetic maybe,

in the male anyway. She sought money

for a fuck. It all suddenly made too much

sense. People still did this sort of thing?

In outlying Georgia, just off the beaten

path? Did she make a decent living? Did

she face some pimp-guy's wrath?

-

Later on, I was almost distressed, and 

wanted to do it over again but this time

say yes and see what occurred. I'll die

without knowing. But I guess it's OK.

-

('You cannot come in, without applique').