PERFORATED APPRAISALS
FROM SANDWICH WITH LOVE
I see I said. The man from Polanka was tall, very skinny and with large hair. I drew a circle in the air with my hand to illustrate that I understood. Understood completely. It was cold when I shot her in the hip. We were on our way from Sandwich - it was very cold and she was screaming he said, making a triangle in the air with his fist. I see I said.
What is your name he asked. Plithe. Plithe Gonzolo Ezparza Latrelle I replied. He stood on one leg and smelled the centers of his palms This is for you - yours for your very own he said eyes gazing upward, then cast down suddenly. I opened my mind and accepted the gesture, said My what a generous soul you are, but what of the woman from Sandwich? He turned on one foot and pulled at his tangled matt of hair, a coiled up mess twice the girth of his own head She is the center of the middle now, I despise her - but I love her. I love her because I will marry her then burn us both. More than this I cannot say he went silent just then - eyes up, then down to the ground; circle, triangle fist in the air.
I pulled a soiled rag from my pocket and set it on fire before us. What is your name I asked. Newa Yorka. Newa Yorka Larga Blanca Fatale he whispered. Sandwich is where the love pump runs - there is a fountain there that brings wetness to my eyes in the thought of it. I bring this for you to see he said, pulling from his coat pocket a most repulsive, veinous meat piece. I laughed out loud and slapped my knee with delight. blessed then is the death of the couple and the veinous alter meat from Sandwich! let us burn the filthy rag and ring tomorrows bell! And so it ends as it began, eyes cast up, then down and a hopefull circle drawn in the air signifying complete and total understanding.
What is your name he asked. Plithe. Plithe Gonzolo Ezparza Latrelle I replied. He stood on one leg and smelled the centers of his palms This is for you - yours for your very own he said eyes gazing upward, then cast down suddenly. I opened my mind and accepted the gesture, said My what a generous soul you are, but what of the woman from Sandwich? He turned on one foot and pulled at his tangled matt of hair, a coiled up mess twice the girth of his own head She is the center of the middle now, I despise her - but I love her. I love her because I will marry her then burn us both. More than this I cannot say he went silent just then - eyes up, then down to the ground; circle, triangle fist in the air.
I pulled a soiled rag from my pocket and set it on fire before us. What is your name I asked. Newa Yorka. Newa Yorka Larga Blanca Fatale he whispered. Sandwich is where the love pump runs - there is a fountain there that brings wetness to my eyes in the thought of it. I bring this for you to see he said, pulling from his coat pocket a most repulsive, veinous meat piece. I laughed out loud and slapped my knee with delight. blessed then is the death of the couple and the veinous alter meat from Sandwich! let us burn the filthy rag and ring tomorrows bell! And so it ends as it began, eyes cast up, then down and a hopefull circle drawn in the air signifying complete and total understanding.
Bacon with Sandwich on at Halfway Head
I was hunting for Mantooboo, on the Island of Otumbo near the mouth of the river Coco-so-oha. Tsibili was my guide, for the forest was thick here and the floor of the canopy treacherous.
It was 82 degrees and humid as sin. Tsibili's feet skillfully moving us through the low-bush - 'Teranovus Camlibibi' I noted in my arm recorder. I took a sample and ran it through the sampler 100 apparatus. Tsibili had disappeared into the bush ahead. I waited 10 minutes and was preparing to look for him when he returned from above, flying to the ground on a liana vine.
It rained as we entered the valley, carved deeply by the great raging river Coco-so-oha. I stood in awe and wonder as this huge river blasted past my face and over a 1000' cliff into a basin below.Tsibili paid homage to the river spirit with song and dance.
We arrived at an outpost of forest humanity named Ngichi. There we were met by Camoon the Chuma-Toompa of the Namili tribe. A foaming-at-the-mouth camel was herded into a cart for transport before our eyes.
German music played in the background and it was still early morning. After a morning meal a camel wrestling match was scheduled. Tsibil would not attend, staying close to the edge of the forest. I was invited, and was planning to go, despite my aching bones, singing for sleep.
I awoke to find that it was the next day and I had missed the wrestling match. Tsibili was standing near the edge of the campground looking southeast into the tropical rain forest. I took samples of plants -'Rimini Augratenous' I noted and drank tea made from tsoolooloo root.
We climbed steadily upwards to a very high, flat plane where several paths crossed. It was dark now and I could see the allignment of the paths to the stars above. Tsibili gestured with his hands cupped and rolling- telling the age old story of how the gods of stars, winds and earth joined together to mark the paths of enlightenment.
The morning brought the first glimpses of the heavily forested monster-peak TruPowa-Kalula: Halfway Head. I sharpened the curved, long, narrow, deadly edge of my Gilda-Blade and prepared for the hunt. Tsibili smelled the air and gathered a handful of Pope grass. We were to crouch and wait in the places Tsibili selected.
The Mantooboo were clever creatures with hides as thick as stone but with tender white meat as soft as snow and sweet as butter bacon. We took a sow out with a no pain. Cut down with a single stroke from the Gilda-blade.
Later, as we passed around Mantooboo bacon with sandwich on, Tsibili placed the Pope grass on the ceremonial alter of rock, earth and tree. Thunder roared its voice and a light rain began to fall gently to earth. Halfway Head raised its arms into the falling drops and smiled at the sky in this, the holiday season.
It was 82 degrees and humid as sin. Tsibili's feet skillfully moving us through the low-bush - 'Teranovus Camlibibi' I noted in my arm recorder. I took a sample and ran it through the sampler 100 apparatus. Tsibili had disappeared into the bush ahead. I waited 10 minutes and was preparing to look for him when he returned from above, flying to the ground on a liana vine.
It rained as we entered the valley, carved deeply by the great raging river Coco-so-oha. I stood in awe and wonder as this huge river blasted past my face and over a 1000' cliff into a basin below.Tsibili paid homage to the river spirit with song and dance.
We arrived at an outpost of forest humanity named Ngichi. There we were met by Camoon the Chuma-Toompa of the Namili tribe. A foaming-at-the-mouth camel was herded into a cart for transport before our eyes.
German music played in the background and it was still early morning. After a morning meal a camel wrestling match was scheduled. Tsibil would not attend, staying close to the edge of the forest. I was invited, and was planning to go, despite my aching bones, singing for sleep.
I awoke to find that it was the next day and I had missed the wrestling match. Tsibili was standing near the edge of the campground looking southeast into the tropical rain forest. I took samples of plants -'Rimini Augratenous' I noted and drank tea made from tsoolooloo root.
We climbed steadily upwards to a very high, flat plane where several paths crossed. It was dark now and I could see the allignment of the paths to the stars above. Tsibili gestured with his hands cupped and rolling- telling the age old story of how the gods of stars, winds and earth joined together to mark the paths of enlightenment.
The morning brought the first glimpses of the heavily forested monster-peak TruPowa-Kalula: Halfway Head. I sharpened the curved, long, narrow, deadly edge of my Gilda-Blade and prepared for the hunt. Tsibili smelled the air and gathered a handful of Pope grass. We were to crouch and wait in the places Tsibili selected.
The Mantooboo were clever creatures with hides as thick as stone but with tender white meat as soft as snow and sweet as butter bacon. We took a sow out with a no pain. Cut down with a single stroke from the Gilda-blade.
Later, as we passed around Mantooboo bacon with sandwich on, Tsibili placed the Pope grass on the ceremonial alter of rock, earth and tree. Thunder roared its voice and a light rain began to fall gently to earth. Halfway Head raised its arms into the falling drops and smiled at the sky in this, the holiday season.