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Vertical Prose

May 6th, 2004

that section from Sarah @ 02:43 pm

Current Mood: in the city
Current Music: there's hell in Hello, but more in good-bye -- jim o'rourke

After summer harvests start winding down, before the winter coal shipments pick up, business gets slow. Truckers take their vacations and get to know their families again. Sometimes I go days without a rig to climb into. I have enough credit for Stacey to keep me supplied, but I miss having my dates. The other boys always talk about having to get high to help them do and then forget their tricks. But I'm pathetically aware, now I get high to fill the time between tricks. Because, no matter how rough or though the trucker, that point of soundlessness, that instant before they are spent, is the sweetest contact anyone could ever have with anybody. I hold those moments --- the tobacco and grease-stained hand lovingly caressing my throat, the lips parted in silent ecstasy, kissing my forehead like a parent placing a good-night kiss --- I replay them in slow motion as if they took place with the prolonged consumed movements of someone running under water.

page 137
by JT Leroy
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Date:May 6th, 2004 02:49 pm (UTC)

*gulp* damn

oh, my. *sproing*

Vertical Prose