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do the the negative boogie. do it now.

I found an unattended car on Bayshore Blvd.. I drove it far. I drove it through another lifetime. Way up into the mountains. High above the hospital and the Indian casino. I left the car on the shoulder of the road. All the doors open. The radio playing. I climbed a narrow path through the trees and the fog. I arrived at a clearing lit by bonfire. No one else was around. A crisp new suit hung from a low branch. I put on the new suit. It fit me better than any article of clothing I have ever worn in my entire worthless life. It felt light and very natural--a new external organ. And then I was in a pool hall. I was alone among rows and rows of pool tables. A low-wattage lightbulb burned in a pyramid of dusty stained glass over each table. A woman's voice crackling out of the radio. She announced Coleman Hawkins from another planet. A nurse drifted into the pool hall in a sheet of fog. She wore a surgical mask, light stain of blood or lipstick around the mouth. She sat near me on the edge of a pool table. She took off her shoes and pulled up her skirt. She wore white nylons. My cock got hard, as she played with my zipper with her toes. "This is a new suit," I told her. More fog blew into the pool hall. The Coleman Hawkins tune faded into waves of static and feedback, the dj's voice slowing to half-speed. The nurse's feet on my cock. I squeezed her calf. It was so cold. I closed my eyes and fell into a dream of silver ghosts.

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