Уильям Берроуз - Nova Express

And I said: "William, tu éres loco."

No Good — No Bueno

So many years-that image-got up and fixed in the sick dawn- No me hagas caso -Again he touched like that-smell of dust-The tears gathered-In Mexico again he touched-Codeine pills powdered out into the cold Spring air-Cigarette holes in the vast Thing Police-Could give no information other than wind identity fading out-dwindling-"Mr. Martin" couldn't reach is all-Bread knife in the heart-Shadow turned off the lights and water-We intersect on empty walls — Look anywhere-No good-Falling in the dark mutinous door-Dead Hand stretching zero-Five times of dust we made it all the living and the dead-Young form went to Madrid-Demerol by candlelight-Wind hand-The Last Electrician to tap on pane-Migrants arrival-Poison of dead sun went away and sent papers — Ferry boat cross flutes of Ramadan-Dead muttering in the dog's space-Cigarette hole in the dark- give no information other than the cold Spring cemetery — The Sailor went wrong in corridors of that hospital — Thing Police keep all Board Room Reports is all-Bread knife in the heart proffers the disaster accounts — He just sit down on "Mr. Martin"-Couldn't reach flesh on Niño Perdido-A long time between flutes of Ramadan-No me hagas caso sliding between light and shadow-

"The American trailing cross the wounded galaxies con su medicina, William."

Half your brain slowly fading-Turned off the lights and water-Couldn't reach flesh-empty walls-Look anywhere-Dead on tracks see Mr. Bradly Mr. Zero- And being blind may not refuse the maps to my blood whom I created-"Mr. Bradly Mr. Martin," couldn't you write us any better than that? — Gone away You can look any place-No good-No bueno-

I spit blood under the sliding vulture shadows-At The Mercado Mayorista saw a tourist-A Meester Merican fruto drinking pisco-and fixed me with the eyes so I sit down and drink and tell him how I live in a shack under the hill with a tin roof held down by rocks and hate my brothers because they eat-He says something about "malo viento" and laughs and I went with him to a hotel I know-In the morning he says I am honest and will I come with him to Pucallpa he is going into the jungle looking for snakes and spiders to take pictures and bring them back to Washington they always carry something away even if it is only a spider monkey spitting blood the way most of us do here in the winter when the mist comes down from the mountains and never leaves your clothes and lungs and everyone coughed and spit blood mist on the mud floor where I sleep-We start out next day in a Mixto Bus by night we are in the mountains with snow and the Meester brings out a bottle of pisco and the driver gets drunk down into the Selva came to Pucallpa three days later-The Meester locates a brujo and pays him to prepare Ayuhuasca and I take some too and muy mareado-Then I was back in Lima and other places I didn't know and saw the Meester as child in a room with rose wallpaper looking at something I couldn't see-Tasting roast beef and turkey and ice cream in my throat knowing the thing I couldn't see was always out there in the hall-And the Meester was looking at me and I could see the street boy words there in his throat-Next day the police came looking for us at the hotel and the Meester showed letters to the Commandante so they shook hands and went off to lunch and I took a bus back to Lima with money he gave me to buy equipment-

Shift Coordinate Points

K9 was in combat with the alien mind screen-Magnetic claws feeling for virus punch cards-pulling him into vertiginous spins-

"Back-Stay out of those claws-Shift coordinate points-" By Town Hall Square long stop for the red light A boy stood in front of the hot dog stand and blew water from his face-Pieces of grey vapor drifted back across wine gas and brown hair as hotel faded photo showed a brass bed-Unknown mornings blew rain in cobwebs-Summer evenings feel to a room with rose wallpaper-Sick dawn whisper of clock hands and brown hair-Morning blew rain on copper roofs in a slow haze of apples-Summer light on rose wallpaper-Iron mesas lit by a pink volcano-Snow slopes under the Northern shirt-Unknown street stirring sick dawn whispers of junk-Flutes of Ramadan in the distance-St. Louis lights wet cobblestones of future life-Fell through the urinal and the bicycle races-On the bar wall the clock hands-My death across his face faded through the soccer scores-smell of dust on the surplus army blankets-Stiff jeans against one wall-And KiKi went away like a cat-Some clean shirt and walked out-He is gone through unknown morning blew-"No good-No bueno-Hustling myself-" Such wisdom in gusts-

K9 moved back into the combat area-Standing now in the Chinese youth sent the resistance message jolting clicking tilting through the pinball machine — Enemy plans exploded in a burst of rapid calculations — Clicking in punch cards of redirected orders — Crackling shortwave static — Bleeeeeeeeeeeeeep — Sound of thinking metal–

“Calling partisans of all nations — Word falling — Photo falling — Break through in Grey Room — Pinball led streets — Free doorways — Shift coordinate points —”

"The ticket that exploded posed little time so I’ll say `good night'-Pieces of grey Spanish Flu wouldn't photo-Light the wind in green neon-You at the dog — The street blew rain-If you wanted a cup of tea with rose wallpaper-The dog turns-So many and sooo-

"In progress I am mapping a photo-Light verse of wounded galaxies at the dog I did-The street blew rain-The dog turns-Warring head intersected Powers-Word falling-Photo falling-Break through in Grey Room-"

He is gone away through invisible mornings leaving a million tape recorders of his voice behind fading into the cold spring air pose a colorless question?

"The silence fell heavy and blue in mountain villages — Pulsing mineral silence as word dust falls from demagnetized patterns-Walked through an old blue calendar in Weimar youth-Faded photo on rose wallpaper under a copper roof-In the silent dawn little grey men played in his block house and went away through an invisible door-Click St. Louis under drifting soot of old newspapers-`Daddy Longlegs' looked like Uncle Sam on stilts and he ran this osteopath clinic outside East St. Louis and took in a few junky patients for two notes a week they could stay on the nod in green lawn chairs and look at the oaks and grass stretching down to a little lake in the sun and the nurse moved around the lawn with her silver trays feeding the junk in-We called her 'Mother'- Wouldn't you? — Doc Benway and me was holed up there after a rumble in Dallas involving this aphrodisiac ointment and Doc goofed on ether and mixed in too much Spanish Fly and burned the prick off the Police Commissioner straight away-So we come to `Daddy Longlegs' to cool off and found him cool and casual in a dark room with potted rubber plants and a silver tray on the table where he liked to see a week in advance-The nurse showed us to a room with rose wallpaper and we had this bell any hour of the day or night ring and the nurse charged in with a loaded hypo-Well one day we were sitting out in the lawn chairs with lap robes it was a fall day trees turning and the sun cold on the lake-Doe picks up a piece of grass-

"Junk turns you on vegetable-It's green, see? — A green fix should last a long time."

We checked out of the clinic and rented a house and Doc starts cooking up this green junk and the basement was full of tanks smelled like a compost heap of junkies-So finally he draws off this heavy green fluid and loads it into a hypo big as a bicycle pump-

"Now we must find a worthy vessel," he said and we flush out this old goof ball artist and told him it was pure Chinese H from The Ling Dynasty and Doc shoots the whole pint of green right into the main line and the Yellow jacket turns fibrous grey green and withered up like an old turnip and I said: "I'm getting out of here, me," and Doc said: "An unworthy vessel obviously-So I have now decided that junk is not green but blue."