A long sentence, don’t attempt to read it unless you have half an hour, it’s heavy, smooth, rich but goes down light…
(If you are familiar with Joyce’s Ulysses this sentence makes a lot more sense…)
“Just one sentence
…about Sex and Apartheit “
Words like Colored, Black, White, Elephant have been replaced with other English words for example Elephant is now Rhino just as politics change writing changes. The original title of this one sentence is “The Writing On The Wall”. Now sit back and enjoy
While the writing on the wall is telling the tale of days somewhere on the other side of the globe in a country called Apartheit where the summers and the winters are mismatched contrary to seasons here in our northern or southern hemisphere in whichever we might happen to live our lives while the City by the Lagoon is being blessed with riches of seafood like oysters and huge crab eating such O surely I am remembering a rich bloke named Mossi night-time bartending at Christmas there is no lettuce while white cabbage is garnishing the fine china-plates filled with delectable edibles served by the non rich waiters to the invading holiday guests which were rich adults swarming in with and sans Rich brood filling the Medieval Hotel which is old just like the town and showing it because this City by the Lagoon itself originates way back as the rich lad Leo bartending in the men’s bar is saying and Mossi being a daytime Post-office worker correcting pointed out that the year in question must have been 1650 to the three-hundred-pound rugby player on active reserve in the military who is disagreeing responding this City by the Lagoon was famous long before 1495 when the flying Dutchman used to take time-off from scaring the sailors at the cape’s three points by visiting the City by the Lagoon’s rocky shore and lagoon which were ever since a point of attraction for the Rich and famous claiming ownership over all land and local civilization at home at the lagoon bedded between two thousand and more years’ old forests of blackwood or redwood and yellowwood with sophisticated literate Rhinos traversing the streets only at the crossing signs marked RHINOCEROS in big bold letters in English suggesting these animals are not bilingual like the other natives who are mostly illiterate having never seen a Rhino trotting across the street any but the right place while passing over the much traveled road ignoring right-a-way-stay-on-or-give-way rules considering them happy-go-lucky-rhinos asking for a rather big car to convince these to the contrary of their own instincts of the wild on the other end of the spectrum the crashing surf of the ocean’s warm waters is gently stroking the rocks being home to rock oysters of eight inches in diameter having made their way onto the menu of the Medieval Hotel employing exclusively Non-Richs being called Poor doing all-odd-jobs and getting paid too little to move to any other place and too much to think about moving anywhere if they could what they cannot in the country of Apartheit the Poors on payday are hanging out in the Havenot Bar where one of them a Poor is bartending for the Poors which by that are having a place to be spiritual attending to their spirited wines which Poor men need to forget their identity drinking many Poor men prefer the Poor men’s bar scenario to the passing out in the bushes near the doors of the Non-Rich off-sale-liquor-stores being the other option they are having not me for I am in charge of the property being the management while myself still green and barely dry behind the ears surviving the realities of life by always looking the other way when things are happening to Non-Richs being beaten and many of them are in the streets of the cities in a country called Apartheit in front of me who is blind by choice and therefore not seeing the Rich-man’s police manhandling Poors as it occurred and not seeing the hate in the Poor fellow’s eyes getting arrested by police for being at the wrong time in the wrong place as I am not seeing the hunger and fear in the eyes of the chain-gangs consisting of jailed Non-Rich men working for me for a few cents a day as an incentive they are teased and humiliated by them guards not seeing what I see in the amenities for the Rich being O yes so prim and proper I am living only the Rich side of life okay my side and what I am getting out of being on the right side of the track knowing the facilities for the Poor men are providing little creature comfort for all Poors therefor the Havenots’ Bar is nothing but a dirty hole where the bartender is stripping his clientele of their meager earnings and all dignity by means of pushing on these addicts the Rich-men’s cheap alcohol while taking their money being the Poor bartender’s duty-to-do while on-duty he is now telling me about his past being related to the British crown as I am standing next to Petrous Poor named after a saint not looking like any saint I know saints around here are not Poor in the country of Apartheit where the Rich are the gods powered by gold more being better than less as I next to the dartboard in the semi dark room barely lit up by a naked lightbulb am facing him smelling of Sweetwine and dirt O yeses not clean dirt like agricultural soil where vegetables are growing in this dirt clinging to his skin with sweat nothing is growing except fungus maybe asking myself if such would if anything at all having the aura of the foul smell from leftover Poors’-wine escaping from his pores while stale cigarette smoke is lingering in the air which neither one of us creates as we are not smoking next thing surely feeling like having one which would be much better for my lungs than the stink of kaffir beer sitting too long in the chipped toilet bowl divided by a thin wall and no door from the cantina itself taking away my breath which is getting abused in here from the stench of neither beer nor wine but vomit spit and spilled drinks in the groove of the footrest made from blackwood being the City by the Lagoon’s forest’s best and finest wood fronting the empty counter of the bar bathed in the light from one single hundred watt bulb as candles on the counter are throwing shadows dancing in their own shades marching over the sticky wood-slab flickering and licking away on the darkness displaced by her breathtaking outline standing where she is standing the statue of Innocentia being the goddess of the white bed-sheets as I title her thinking of the now defenseless Petrous whose fault it all is in my mind calling him a drunk bastard in his native language while I look around he understands being used to be being treated as all Poors are as he is telling me a story ending with my-line-of-ancestors-goes-back-to-King- George and keeping on repeating that he is related to the British because some god is going to save the Queen supposedly saving him as well he is keeping on repeating the same so often that he must be believing it himself being 5′ 2″ condemned by breeding qualities to third rate citizenship in the country of Apartheit with separate growth laws for the Rich and for the Poor while other places call such segregation being nothing but constitutional birthrights to be a serve namely a nothing-who-is-nothing-who-does-everything-but-lead while dreaming of a future is knowing his only purpose on the Rich-men’s soil is to serve his masters as he knows how to while I am looking at him being slimly skinny yet standing tall for his kind who are expected to live nearer to the floor as part of societies rule that the Poor have to kiss constantly the Rich mens’ boots O is his left eye bloodshot and milky looking the other good right eye is hiding fast under a swelling O certainly I remember kicking the bloke responsible for Petrous’ violet black eye right where it counted and out of the bar he was leaving with the rest of the bar-crowd and my right shirt-sleeve in hand while Petrous was keeping on repeating that he is related to the Queen and repeating these Poors they are having their own code of ethics being bred selectively by European traders who chose the most domestique Island women as stock impregnated these with sperm donated by word-travelers from all continents not only sailors but also the Rich and Noble who could afford or had to travel to this far away country where wild oats over centuries have been creating this kind of people who have in their bloodstream all races known to men giving or taking a pinch of edele-as-well-as-trashy chromosomes as DNA testing should show I know that these Poors have much knowledge of how to deal with their own people as Poor Petrous is questioning me what right I the Rich-man’s-money-slave am having to brake-up the fighting of which I had none therefor hating myself being the Rich’s management being paid to crack the whip ashamed listening to Petrous keeping on repeating that he is related to the Queen who is surely aware of the bartender causing the trouble himself knowingly fully aware that the law says NO WOMEN ALLOWED on the sign next to the NON-Rich-ONLY displayed which he is fully capable of reading therefor knowing that women are banned from Apartheit’s men’s bars O some Rich women are hanging out in the Rich men’s Haveall Ladiesbar both sexes congregate with the intent of picking up dates like my bosses daughter is doing whenever she gets the itch needing someone to scratch her back and wherever the same place that glass- widows and straw-widows need tickling just the same as other un-conservative Rich women do in this bend of the lands where ladies go by themselves only to eating-places where non-Rich wine-stewards serve drinks with food to any sex but only to the Rich-people in whose eyes the young Poor maid is breaking the Rich’s society’s rightish laws by being in the liquor-storage- room of the storage area of the Poor-bar showing an awful unspeakable behavior inappropriate for any woman as the wealthy man’s daughter being my bosses only child had pointed out to me not mentioning her sources for the information saying see-they-are-still-nothing-but-animals-in- heat curling her short nose up talking down at me the hired help who was looking up to her while she was sitting and I was standing in attention confronted by her being not the prettiest woman in town but the richest single female with no real friends between the wives who rightfully suspected her of playing around with their husbands’ precious tools she was borrowing whenever she felt a need for such and such who was honored and drunk enough to risk his marriage for doing kissing and touching or a lot more with the proprietor’s daughter who loves all the attention she is getting laid only because of her wealth as the jealous competition broadcasts not believing that Miss Wealth’s charming a hundred and fifty pounds on the hoof being just over 5′ 2″ short going on thirty having bright blond hair being not her real color which expressed her personality so much better O I think so in deed than her medium brown pleasant long hair contrasting delightfully with her grey green brown prominently displayed big round big eyes in the pretty oval face with a really quite sensuous smiling mouth and perfect teeth like all uitlanders from the continent discovered by Columbus in 1592 or whenever she went to the dentist even when it did not hurt carrying bails of dental-floss in her purse not for the purpose of knitting clothing which she was modeling being fashionable all outfits she was wearing her way were nothing less than designer made dresses priced outlandish by the studios in Paris or London or Berlin or San Francisco from where such creations were being shipped to her domicile overlooking the golf-course on which she had never played a game owning several sets of clubs not talking about all the closet full of proper attire from shoes to sweater straightening her posture a round full figure topped with a doll shaped face and darling mouth she was getting up from her chair confronting me with a pushy body standing with her legs slightly spread firm on the ground her hands on her upper legs I surely knew all about her while running into each other she has what I call the John-Wayne-act down to a science by imitating this famous actor’s moves instead of playing a feminine role as women are supposed to act like women what she never does being known for drinking burping and swearing like a man as well as eating with her fingers like a man they say she was not only walking and talking like a man she was seen going to the bathroom with the men which I would have never believed so had I not seen her and I did not at first standing close to the urinal due to the shortness on my side where five inches are only five inches therefor being unable to stay a foot away from the pissoir taking my business in my own hands feeling the pressure building I start hosing the porcelain bowl until being goosed not once but twice in my butt was greatly annoying me and ready to hit the homosexual who dared to do such I turned around missing Miss Wealth legs by a centimeter at the most as she made her remarks calling my aiming abilities inadequate but him cute touching his head telling me the-stall-behind-you-needs-a-new-roll-of-paper as she walked out the door followed by the hardware-store-fellow-from-down-the-road I was thinking how odd when I felt the warmth through my shoes and on my pants’ legs O yes she was thinking that embarrassing me was funny like she was last season one evening by walking through the lobby her blouse in one hand and no bra telling me if men don’t have to wear shirts in her hotel why should she be doing such as an older lady was fainting by the sight of Miss Wealth’s little cherry red nipples sticking out from sagging identical-cow-patties-look-a-like flat huge breasts overexposed to the warm air circulating by means of a cooling fan hanging from the ceiling hanging they were too then not now being propped up by a contraption creating a big bosom which she loving herself is displaying with pride of owning a balcony with a view she kept telling me to get going and straighten the problems out in our Havenots’ bar where they were having nudy-shows and whatever decent people can only imagine for if I were not man enough she would be going herself making it quite clear to these lazy-no-good-money-wasting-drunken-bums that the law says no women in her Poor men’s bar where I am now standing next to the dartboard with Poor Petrous who is keeping on repeating that he is related to the Queen who knows that Petrous is seeking a way out as I ask them both to step with me into the room behind the bar with the intention of inspecting the crime-scene I am thinking she is without question perky slick O so plain no lipstick no makeup but very pretty being also very fortunately never having been kicked or beaten and if she is not showing it by sporting her full set of teeth with a little crooked smile arguing she is not at fault attempting to make me believe she does not know why it is such a big deal now he does not take the blame not knowing why he is in trouble other when being pushed around like by this Black man and his Indian friends wanting more than just peeking at this Poor woman on display they were trying to get into his storage room where she willfully undressing and teasing the men’s minds had been O I see Petrous is not telling the truth saying she was changing her clothing only could these eyes lie blinking at me with her long eyelashes in morse- code stating I-am-just-a-little-girl-but-a-great-squeeze-what-about-later as I answer yes-O-sure- sooner-better-than-later while Poor Petrous is keeping on repeating being related to the Queen who hopefully is listening to the repetitious Petrous being afraid of losing his job fishing around and making up reasons why I should spare him for I saw her with my own two eyes leaning against this post in front of me where a nail driven into is still decorated with her maid-out-fit hanging from this very nail in the very post holding the very leaky roof under which I been watching her taking off this seductive looking simple blue skirt and white cotton blouse before leaning against this post and rolling her black stockings centimeter by centimeter down revealing fancy skin tanned like Europeans sunning on a nude beach she undressed down to naked flesh before stepping into the light dress she is wearing now half unbuttoned in the front feeling my eyes on her soft bronzed skin staring back she did lock eyes with me like she is doing now again fully aware of me being only a young man she is testing amused my resistence as I feel my pants tightening starting to bulge and I can not help it having thoughts of a lower nature right between my legs therefor am forcing myself to look away viewing the mortar on the floor fallen off the walls undressing the sturdy rocks used as building blocks sitting on an unswept floor with rats droppings in the corner a box of droopy softened cardboard telling stories of the last rain with little else to be seen in the barren storage room with its four huge jars of cheap wine and the four crates with beer in milk cartons there is nothing valuable in this storage room not even a mousetrap or is there one only the Poor woman knows what she calls it by the purpose it serves her being one genuine model of the best example of a young energetic local female by name of Katrina unafraid of me flowering misplaced earlier on display for money being a prime example that beauty is growing in many places thinking just look at her who as a hooker in Hamburg St. Pauli could drive a brand-new Mercedes convertible sports-car paid-for by men’s desires to see her body and touch her most sensual zones and smell her sweat and taste her juices and hear her accent saying hundred-dollars-for-a-half-and-half being reasonable for any attractive natural talent requiring no bodypaint or plaster displaying priceless firmness of youth unaware of aging discarded to a life in a junkyard called Apartheit heading from one dead-end-street to the next cul-de-sac seeing the NO WAY OUT signs keeping going cornered turning around in her off- duty-outfit being this simple light summer dress of flimsy thin material adequate for a walk on the beach during a warm night here in the back of the Havenots’ bar it is more provocative than nudity as the lighting from the single bulb dangling from the loose wire is behind her outlining her waist and the cup size breasts with these big long stiff pointed nipples and her female thighs and well-rounded rear flowing into straight legs between these showing no traces of underwear but a locket of curly hair driving me insane Petrous is interrupting my lusting thoughts insisting that I believe him that he is noble born while an angry look from my eyes leads her to grab my arm pleading not for her but for Poor Petrous who gave her the key only so she could change as she was doing and I am stupid enough to consider the possibility attempting to believe her as well as why should I not as I know so hotel guests would not have to watch her changing from uniform to street clothing O true there is no employee changing-room for the Poor help being no need for such at all as the maids are used to change in an empty hotel room or behind the servants building as I well know for I have been watching them from the lawn through the bushes they did it there except the few who have a place in the overcrowded service quarters which she has not being new O this Petrous is known as an entrepreneur who is charging double for each drink only on paydays for letting his patrons take a peek through the cracks into his store room from behind his bar to let them see an amateurish strip show for the past three years regularly as everybody knows he is sharing his take with the female who is making herself available there had been no quarrels of any kind quoting a Poor female who had been on Petrous’ stage-show-performers-waiting-list since the first time when she had started it all by showing off various types of underwear in front of some men in the same storage room Katrina was undressing tonight being than nothing but the copy of a festivity the Rich-people had been having a costume party next door getting out of hand and several women were throwing their drawers into the crowd where men passing a hat were collecting money given to these who would be daring enough to expose almost all their assets to the much applauding gaudy group of Rich people acting out as this Poor woman in my room warming my bed on a cool summer night had been telling me quite some time ago I believed her that she was doing nothing that they did not do over in the big house undressing in the storage room in front of these Poor men learning from her first night in future to lock the door not only keeps her out of sight of any officer of the law inspecting the premises but also from getting gang raped at the end of her show which she did not as the men paid her more than a month’s pay earned in just over three hours she was sore of course not sorry for getting money which kept her in line trying it over and over again to another thirty dollars O yes she was going to undress again as often as Petrous wanted her for it was better than twelve hour days of scrubbing floors were paying therefor being in the half-dark store room watched by male admirers was more attractive than polishing brass and copper all month not counting the making of curtains and sheets getting sore fingers from such but not from standing there in partial darkness of the storeroom separated by a wall knowing the cracks in the door and partition being filled with eyeballs falling out of heads of drunk lushes married to women who had not been getting their deserved share of poking from these who were wetting their pants sowing their precious seed in the wrong places fantasizing by looking at nude skin was better than painful backaches from ironing shirts and clothing for the guests whose tips were always pocketed by the greedy Rich housekeeper who never shared her wealth with any of the Poor maids having to look out for their own interest O twenty dollars was a month wage from making up rooms six to seven days a week so Petrous’ offer of five dollars up front for taking just the dress off in the near dark next to the wine jugs is fair pay as are an extra five dollars for taking the bra or blouse off being given five more dollars for the slip is nearly a month’s pay and getting another five dollars for posing leaning at the pole out of reach of the gaffers being far better than anything locally available for the cash-poor females who are the reason Petrous is selling so much cheap wine every payday in an overcrowded bar without me noticing or wanting to acknowledge a thing myself mingling with the all Rich right crowd O yes I understand firing Petrous in the middle of the season is no solution to the problem by name of Miss-Wealth-trying- to-get-tough-with-her-maid O so smart I postpone judgement to the next day as I cannot think straight being bothered by a third leg growing in two-legged pants looking at her thinking seduction in persona standing there innocently in her flimsy dress making me sick seeing the raw flesh showing and blood trickling from Petrous’ chin where he had been hit hard yet I am not offering to clean his wounds or any medical attention but hear myself telling him in the master’s voice to come to my office in the morning and next asking Katrina to talk to me later thinking the-sooner-the-better saying I-want-you-to- come-see-me-in-persona-grata-at-the-hotel as she is leaving with Petrous while I am watching her walking away my eyes glued on her following him she is glancing back over her shoulder at me and her eyes are laughing at my starched white pants being moved by my heart beating right there in front from frivolously staring at her legs and up hers calling it keeping an open mind under the closed fly as my hot looks warm up her walk to a rolling of her hips driving me completely out of my mind filled with fantasies of great length getting shortened while locking the door of the Havenots’ cantina and refusing service to another group of potential customers who already drunk are searching for some action which is not happening any more tonight the air is warming the drinks consumed in this part of the country of Apartheit are many while vacationing minds and bodies are seeking the euphoric stages by getting wasted watching each other a couple is gulping cocktails while three men surrounding one of our-well-known-bar-flies trying to get her drunk enough to go to bed with her each of them has no clue how much she can drink as the barmaid pours more champagne for the banker and his secretary over there in the corner getting toasted and an older couple is playing dice while their daughter is putting lipstick on glaring passionately at the pants of a good- looking bloke who is walking by in a Tom-Jones-look-alike-outfit of which I am sure the pants are padded as the visitors in the Rich-Only Haveall- Ladiesbar look happy while I am counting the people in the Haveall-Ladiesbar which with three exceptions are all hotel guests while finding my way to the standing room only Rich-Men’s bar where after a long vacation day on the beach thirsty men are getting plastered with cane spirit and scotch and beer in a smokey room filled with empty talk everybody has something to say to nobody who listens while the bartender counts money changing hands and drugs are measured and handed out alcohol more or less diluted poured into people insisting to be middle men between distillers and the city sewers as drinks are flowing through the guests carrying their paid for loads of liquids from the bar to the bathroom unaware of any existing shortcut like pouring of drinks directly from the bottles into the urinals being less painful for some of these who are claiming that they are having great fun swaying in the wind talking stupid of course behaving accordingly ordering three to six drinks five minutes before closing time and gulping them down in the sixty-nine seconds before Leo removes all glasses and bottles as required by the British law and police-hour to which they all adhere having no choice but to while Mossi guarding the bar opens the entrance-door wide welcoming the clean air as drunks are spilling onto the quiet street while Leo is cashing out the much above average bar-take smiling he is counting his men’s bar’s money receipts asking questions why the Havenots’ bar had closed so early making so little money for a payday while I explain as he cusses at the bitch who causes nothing but trouble well knowing that the only place he can get even with her is in the battle of the sexes as I know he knows while I am getting ready to walk over the property picking up empty bottles and glasses with my left as my right hand is hurting a lot having both wine-stewards helping me clearing the telltales of just another night where visitors living luxuriously were having a wonderful holiday which I did not have finding signs of good-times-being-had as a couple is getting at and into each other under the bushes of the lower lawn not interrupting staying away finding panties on the playground and by the bungalows a romantic couple in a hammock is swinging in a harmonic motion in the moonlight outside the rondavel unaware of their surrounding busy with themselves as I quietly move-on picking up a woman’s bra and a pair of glasses from a bench on the upper lawn while there are no signs of their owners I am returning to the Rich-Men’s Bar attracted by the lights in its well- stocked storage-room I find Mossi checking not for mail under the dress of a not so modest female laying with her upper torso on the top storage shelf while her head is out of my sight so is Mossi’s who holding the ladder with steady hands has his nose somewhere else as his square head moves up and down from side to side under her long dress draped over his broad red neck I cannot see much of her naked thighs while my mind is painting a picture of where he is kissing- up-to by the location of Mossi’s head under the dresses material to the enjoyment of her teeter- tottering legs and swaying hips while hearing her laughing announcing your-mustache-tickles- my-butt-hole I know I am too close to return unseen if she should look back finding myself caught in a situation I did not want to be in O sure stopping in my tracks once I recognized Miss Wealth’s voice O stupid me I hate walking in on lovers am retreating backwards falling onto my backside which starts hurting not as much as where I am hitting the corner of a crate of Stellenbosch wine with my right hand which starts bleeding while she is bursting into loud laughter I am feeling low being questioned by Miss Wealth about sneaking up on her and Mossi having no defense against her words reducing me to my actual size of being replaceable at a mere finger snapping of her daddy who loves his daughter maintaining she is doing with Mossi all the work restocking the men’s bar which I should have been doing as part of my managerial duties remembering Petrous and how he must have felt I am bruised and embarrassed and bleeding feeling absolutely stupid having made a fool of myself insecure and out of place I go to my room in the north-wing of the hotel finding Katrina the stripper from the Havenots’ Bar waiting with a big piece of raw steak wanting me to put it onto my right hand which had been swelling up fast since using the same to push one undecided angry canteen guest out of the Poor men’s bar where during the scuffle my right hand had been bouncing off the one drunk’s face who was scaring her so much she is saying now as I am relaxing letting her deal with my pain wishing only she would not forget the spot which is needing her the most hearing it echoing in my head hearing my blood boom-boom-boom pulsating boom-boom banging in my eardrums going death while feeling strong but acting wounded weak fishing for attention watching her nibbling on the bait I am coaching her right along showing her how and what and when as she is attending to my right-hand tying blood-red-meat to it O so comforted my left arm follows my left hand independently of the covered up right not seeing the-left-is-up-to-no-good my brain is right there in the fingertips of the left leading a search-and-seek-procedure undoing carefully her buttons in front being stabbed by these a-centimeter-tall-natural-wonders of identical towers on twin-peaks standing up she is leading me onto my bed undoing first my white pants feeling the pulse in my shorts as she who has successfully disarmed all the alarms in my mind is taking control of my body being hooked rod-line-and-sinker wigwag pit-a-pat nothing to hide showing my excitement while probing fingers are talking battledore and shuttlecock about heat exchange with a steaming body speaking to the sensing fingers while of course Katrina knows what she is doing as I am seeing acoustic stories my way with my fingers of my left-hand wave gauging hearing tales about seismic eruptions due any minute with my left as my right pulsates swelling and hurting my nose is sniffing incense madly in lust with the most delicate flavors of melting Camembert over steamed peaches from the oven so hot so appetizing squawky-wet-squatty this squaw is squatting on top no longer squawking in a squeamish squealing about we-shall-not-do- the-forbidden as the country of Apartheit’s apartheid-laws are not allowing intercourse between the Rich and the Poor I fully agree most of the time but not now I am I would if I could take-my- sweet-time sweety dearest making her laugh exclaiming if we keep doing what we are doing we could never be telling anybody I know if she would tell anybody nobody she knows would belief her story as my word would be against hers she would be in trouble while I would not for I know that she is Katrina but I am Mr. Politics her master while she was just waiting for my left hand to become untangled before wiggle-waggle squishy-squashy sitting down instead of-staying-within- the-law-of-apartheid she is climbing-up-and-gliding-down-the-Maypole-by-the-law-of-gravity shaking her bush moistened by dew and I have-not-the-foggiest-idea where I am as tropical rain comforts wild flesh while she is only confirming what I know as I had heard Mossi as well as Leo saying that others had had said they preferred a fancy Poor woman over any other female for the act itself legal or illegal never mind only Poor women are showing a distinct liking for sex so much Mossi was saying the Poors did not like the Blacks or Asians from whom they were getting it O truly often enough the Poor women are liking the getting it from the Rich as they do mostly on the weekends while the male Poor population after spending all money being drunk passed out or in jail is of no use to their women who like to get some as well as money to provide food being always friendly serving their masters’ needs little effort of sticking and stirring to open the irrigation channels to the fields waiting to be plowed the-longer-the-deeper- the-better as Leo was saying from experience about driving past the Poor townships looking for the one or two women per carload needed for a squeeze-bang-squeak-bang-squirt in the dark always finding one Poor female who knocking-on-doors-never-squeak-well-lubricated- welcoming-all-invited-whoever-could-come throughout her mostly horizontal dance changing if space and numbers allowed it to anything including vertical positions of alternating smack-toss- bang squealing-squirming-vibrating-banging or rhythmic-rocking-banging sessions in and out of the car’s confinements in the forests over or on the bonnet or boot to spastic rhythms of squeezing-jerking-beating-cherry-popping in the bushes during- between-after warm showers O so Leo used to say about-two-bits-tip-is-the-right-pay for any of these Poor woman while making his point that the Rich males can buy any mulatto they want in the country of Apartheit a woman’s life relies on the fact that if it is nice for the Rich master than it is pleasing for her as well as him while she would have never tried to undress a Rich man as these might undress her she would never have grabbed or squeeze any Rich man as these Rich men often did to her during the night where Rich are grey while all Poors are grey but never an equal Leo was saying to Mossi talking too much whenever drinking too much while I am getting my finger soaked in Katrina’s vagina O yes earlier she was asking me not to get her pregnant while I am watching her stretching her legs changing positions as her feet with hardened leather-soles-like-skin point up to the ceiling above she is touching me with hands toughened by heavy work so soft her body welcoming me so soft O so warm a glove which fits so perfectly thinking with the head of my penis pricking the fruit which being at its best is overripe dripping from a set of silky moist lips shaking from expectations she is getting me all drunk with her natural smell the scent of Poor female in heat allowing me to find myself in her at the place I came from this paradise where I am locking myself away into holding her without a word as her body opens up just like a book with volumes of good reading being a lifetime of education in one spot I am too young to understand therefor hasty rushing through the shaking leaves of her storm swept bush heading for the eye of the hurricane insanely asking to be carried off by her forces attracted by a magnetic point growing bigger and stronger as she is becoming my magnetic north degrading my being to one of a compass needle stuck to one direction unable to change this heading riding the waves down and up body-surfing as a knock-knock-knocking indicates a rude visitor recognizing her voice calling my name for what I hate her more than ever spoiling my fun which I am having Katrina skewered while spilling what I cannot hold back any longer onto a scared Katrina’s jittering belly feverishly whirling and swirling pivoting from under me rushing to jump ship she turns into a stowaway behind the shower curtain barely missing Miss Wealth’s sights as she arrogant simply enters the unlocked door apologizing for being so unfriendly and unkindly to me earlier in the storage room now pacing my room before joining me on my warm bed opening her blouse as it is a hot night during the holidays in the City by the Lagoon where the Poor young woman is hiding in the bathroom while Miss Wealth is glancing at the steak on my wounded right-hand is asking shouldn’t-it-be-cooked-medium before starting to tell her life story to the brandy bottle in her right hand while she is drinking herself into oblivion with my permission I am watching her and the bottle changing colors as she is praising me in appreciating of my working for her daddy before finally passing out on my body not without having taken her satin undies off while otherwise still being fully dressed O yeses I lift her already raised skirt over her head while she is not able to see Katrina whom I am handing the shoes from under my bed with my left hand the right is heavy loaded down by the raw meat resting on Miss Wealth’s shameless exposed shame while I see Katrina leaving with my expectations to culminate what I had been longing to do unlawful or not with nothing but the greatest pleasure O yes the Poor woman is slipping unseen away into the night while the door closes after her departure I lift the darkness from Miss Wealth’s head who asking what’s-wrong-with-you is rubbing herself with the steak between her legs ignoring that my right hand is hurting she exclaims her intentions of making-up for earlier down-puts while finding me agreeable as the pain subsides telling Miss Wealth how much I admire her body while I let lust go wild roaming the canyons and valleys climbing and falling until exhaustion sets in without undressing her upper body and the big soft jugglers while surprising me with climaxing shouting obscene words wanting my help getting her out of her dress while tearing sounds of expensive clothing being ripped to shreds are no different than these of cheap clothing I am seeking revenge for all the pain her riches have caused me while loving her daddy’s money I hate the Rich spoiled brat comparing her with the piece of meat on my right hand used only for easing the pain by shrinking the swelling being cool I work hard to get her pulse-rate up heavily breathing stinking Rich skin splashed with hundred dollar eau de cologne on and in the cleft between her soft thighs costing much in excess of what the Poor woman Katrina’s monthly take home pay is Miss Wealth having more air than a blow up doll as flatulency turbulence is followed by more wind blowing nasty gusts suitable of keeping Odysseus far out to sea rounding this corner the Romans would have been waiting it out too while I am somewhat unsure about the Greeks as her big mouth boasts I-have-made-love- already-six-times-tonight her father’s favorite saying comes to my mind being there-are-only- two-groups-of-people-fuckees-and-fuckors I am choosing carefully sides until a breaking noise from the door announces Leo kicking it down followed by flinging me into the corner of the room changing my situation to no-win as picking up his Miss Wealth he is leaving me behind while she gets carried on his arms away to his room behind the bar I am unable to get up as I am trying to call Katrina having no sound forming in my throat I am unable of moving any muscle in my body as the line of communication between brain and body is non existing rightfully fearing the worst as I am watching Leo with a grinning visage stepping over the broken door before his hands pickup the old iron bed like it is just a toy aiming it for my corner with the heavy blackwood headboard first seeing it coming as I am climbing the wall looking for a crack knowing it is in the best interest of the government to rid the country of the leftists wherever found O sure my mind has detached from my body as I am looking-on watching him smashing this my body like a pest which I am how did he know while uniting me with the wall being squeezed flat clobbered by a rightist ridding his territory from a lefty squished- squashed spreadeagled spread on the whitewash like a fly becoming nothing but a green gray matter of none-importance does not hurt as much as the being overlooked by everybody coming and going while ignored by all who are sleeping in the same room day after day as I the speck on the wall am forced to watch their irresponsible behavior while I watch the goddess-of-the-white-bed- sheets getting screwed while dirtying the bed rocked by Politicians coming before going ignoring me being of no special interest like all the many specs of dirt on a dirty Rich wall blending in while I call on the other little spots and fly-droppings unite-to-create-a-writing-on-the-wall.
In 1977 we didn’t know how to spell HIV and AIDS was still unknown to us in South Africa.