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Rambling Desert Rambles
In my background noise is a bleach-blonde-Billy-Idol quatraine about a nineteen-year-old girl with the base button bracketed in that ‘87 Fire Bird soliloquy kinda way, the .305 push-purring pleasure syndromes through my butt muscles, watching that beige tinged desert sky. Creosote and eucalyptus and mesquite burning through my cracked window on roller coaster back-roads named after alphabet, I remember those people…
The bearded and mistachio’d nuances of thick-worn menly-men, the blue-eyed surprise blonde farm girl types, the bruja’s and banditos, the suits and the Air Force Personnel; depth is in a sun-seared set of eyes and skin smells akin to leather on the pioneer types that found good work in refinery cities crawling with living and dead dinosaur juices. The waddling walk of sheriff types before body armor and after youth, purposely walking away from relocated gang youth still thinking County is the fucking place to be. I remember them and miss them and don’t because tequila gets old and crystal gets trapped in your teeth. Besides, how in the hell does a Florida boy with a vocabulary rivaling Descartes even begin to fit in with a football team mentality and basketball courts covered in foul-blood and horse loam?
There is a distinct place in my being’s makeup for that short adventure-filled era of three years in the desert and its very Californian denizens, an L.A. smile not quite on every face but did they ever exist on a plane of mixed ethnicity and gender-bashing ethic, a television show movie-of-the-week ready to happen in thirty year-old trailers and shopping strip-mall tanning salons alike. Yes, those bastards of eternal sun fraudulently sold tans to each other and put a white on teeth that would terrify generations to come, but fuck if they weren’t friendly and damn if they didn’t invite me into their homes to play spin-the-bottle or wolf down cold hikima and cayan, feeding me menudo after my next bout of bourbon poisoning. I loved them weird fuckers, and that says a lot coming from a weird fucker like me.
They sent me to Seattle and I went gladly.
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