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To Jay Miner's previous pieceA letter from the hole
Down here in the hole it is sunny and warm and it rarely, if ever rains. The sun is intoxicated on mescaline and other amenities. Even when the temperature is lower, let’s say at fifty degrees or so, the sun makes its presence known. There is a substantial alteration in the mannerisms and thought patterns among those of us who live and die and breed a little further south of heaven.
This morning I awoke to the brilliant and hysterical laughter of a ring of children below my door. Their carrying-on made it quite impossible to sleep and I decided to rise and make coffee. After wired enough to maintain the perspective of a lunatic, I masturbated twice like a genius would masturbate: with long and forceful strokes, pausing often in order to savor the flavor of flowers in the air and the sweet scent of car exhausts. If another being were to witness the spectacle, I believe they would think me to be deep in some loaded sorrow or full of philosophical gasps. But my mind is as low and base as an erection. I got off two rounds and then lowered my furry primate arms in order to gather some rest.
There was a heavy sort of non-verbal communication between the maid and myself at a later point that day. It was centered upon the notion of my boredom. I had little to do but wait upon the arrival of my parents who were to be flying in from the east the next morning. That, coupled with her own vague sense of longing, led us into an appointment for later on that evening. I carefully laid out some clean sheets, candles, and incense and I quietly laid plans to rape her.
When the woman’s knock was at my door, I was barely able to open up the room to the street. She was on me and mad and insane. The door was insane. I was insane. The whole world outside the room was insane. Fuck all of this, I thought as there was a ridiculous rolling about on the floor that resulted in no intercourse, only a youthful and spirited contest of will. But my regard for humanity was less than hers and I remained the victor. The crime and punishment was for her to leave herself dangling from the shower curtain rod using the bed-sheets. I was a stellar asshole, offering no assistance, only resting in a nearby chair, sipping the nectar of the gods and belting out commands and useless encouragement in an arrogant and sarcastic manner. Well? Let’s see it then! What are we waiting on? One thousand Egyptians to drop from beneath the clouds?
And in the morning I awoke to the same dumb children and lowered her body from its perch. I then sat at this keyboard and banged out a letter to the people who had given me birth:
Dear mother and father:
Happy Thanksgiving! And as always, with love and the sweetest regard…
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