Heather

It's like gambling somehow. You go out for a night of drinking and you don't know where you're going to end up the next day. It could work out good or it could be disastrous. It's like the throw of the dice. Psychedelics are almost irrelevant in a town where you can wander in a casino any time in the day or night and witness the crucifixion of a gorilla. There was no sense in blowing everything away for the sake of some violent ape I'd never even met. There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high powered mutant never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die Angels and sailors rich girls backyard fences tents Dreams watching each other narrowly soft luxuriant cars Girls in garages, stripped out to get liquor and clothes half gallons of wine and sixpacks of beer Jumped, humped, born to suffer made to undress in the wilderness. I will never treat you mean Never start no kind of scene I'll tell you every place and person that I've been. Always a playground instructor, never a killer Always a bridesmaid on the verge of fame or over He manouvered two girls into his hotel room One a friend, the other, the young one, a newer stranger Vaguely Mexican or Puerto Rican Poor boys thighs and buttock scarred by a father's belt She's trying to rie Story of her boyfriend, of teenage stoned death games Handsome lad, dead in a car Confusion No connections Come here I love you Peace on earth Will you die for me? Eat me This way The end I'll always be true Never go out, sneaking out on you, babe If you'll only show me Far Arden again. I'm surprised you could get it up He whips her lightly, sardonically, with belt. Haven't I been through enough? she asks Now dressed and leaving The Spanish girl begins to bleed She says her period It's Catholic heaven I have an ancient Indian crucifix around my neck My chest is hard and brown Lying on stained, wretched sheets with a bleeding virgin We could plan a murder Or start a religion. We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a saltshaker half-full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of uppers, downers, laughers, screamers... Also, a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of beer, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get into a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge, and I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon