Sexuality rises without control. Even old friends are susceptible. It has been more than 10 years since I hung around Tania S., but at a music festival last night I run into her. Sandie Black is in my ear with her growl: "Damn, bitch look good huh?" Meaning Tania, and I drawl to Sandie that I have a good line to say to Tania when the festival is over and we go our different ways:
"Looking at you Tania reminds me that my teeth are made to bite onto somebody's ass."
Sandi loves this line and barks at me to write it down, write it up. Yeah, yeah, says me. And then the next day I'm driving out and there's Tania with her tent and backpack and I pull up and say I'll see her soon among the tall buildings or low sands and then say: "You're aging well." She says, "Oh, am I aging?" and I drive away like a dog in rain, wondering where my good line got choked off/ Worse, i tell Sandie what i actually said and she howls for five minutes: "It's one thing to be a dickhead, nobody keeps score on that, but to act with a limpdick, nobody's gonna forget that. Write stuff down when you think it up so when it comes time to say it you say it like a tollbooth, automatic, and everyone looks and feels cool and Tania next time she sees her ass in mirror will imagine bitemarks all over it instead of the mental picture she now has thanks to you, of a bedraggled poet slinking out of the graveyard after being hit with a spray of ammonia. Think up, write down, tollbooth."