Spy Wednesday I hadn't seen a human face in ten years when a man walked out of the sun and came to me and said, I am hungry, feed me. I fed him snails and he vomited up crabs. Then, because I was quite hungry myself, after all, I'd been wandering through the desert for over a decade, I ate the crabs and vomited up snails. The man's name was Judas, and I told him that it was a beautiful name and that I had always loved that name and had even masturbated to it, as it turned me on so. Judas explained that he was from another space/time continuum but I stopped him before he could go into all of that, as I'm opposed to science as much as mysticism. I told Judas to shut up about time traveling or whatever he called it. Silence between two people makes me nervous so I said whatever came to mind without thinking about whatever I said, without thinking about it at all, no matter how stupid my words were, etc. I said, for example, that I was obsessed with goats. I went on to say that I was obsessed by many things, esp. goats and crabs. I was not, however, obsessed with snails and that, really, I thought they were terrible things to have come into existence. I don't understand why snails have to be here at all, whereas I can't imagine a world without goats and crabs. Judas said he understood and that snails were no good in his book as well, even though his last name had a similar sound to the French word for snail. He thanked me for my honesty and returned to the sun. He did not interest me at all and I hope to never see him again. His first and last name, however, still fulfill me sexually. ©Louis E. Bourgeois 2007 |
Lover Boy I am now a Christian. Here is a short narrative on how I became the very thing I always said I wouldn't become. Jesus Christ Superstar had the nerve to show up at my door step, at noon no less, I guess he thought he would just blow me away with profundity by showing up at the densest hour of day. I let him into the house but it cost him dearly. I said, Jesus, are you a homosexual? When you were hanging on that stupid cross trying to impress everyone, lacking the discipline to be normal, tell me, scouts honor, were you thinking of pussy or cock? He didn't say anything, of course, but he never says anything, anything much, these messiahs always have low I.Q.s. He just sat on my terribly ripped up brown couch and sat there looking like a dumbass - I spoke to him again, this time more forcibly I said, How about sucking my cock, Son of Man? Come on Jessie, why not? You're the Son of God; you can do whatever you want. The Son of Man isn't too smart, as I've said, and, sure enough, he got up and walked over to me and un-zipped my jeans. He sucked long and hard at my pristine white cock until the room turned the color of the finest alabaster ever emitted in this dimension of reality. We might call it a blue reality, for sake of clarity. The room was full of come and I was drowning in my own jism until he commanded the come to depart, and it did instantly, and then, in a puff of smoke, he ascended up the chimney like Saint Nick and was gone. And this was how I came to believe in Jesus Christ of Nazarene. ©Louis E. Bourgeois 2007 |
| Moths A man without eyes kept looking for himself in dark rooms. At the corner of his favorite room, he fell into a pile of dead moths and said for the millionth time, Why not? and proceeded to eat them. The night was full of moths, and many moths died before the light. The eyeless man ate the moths all night long. When the sun came up, the eyeless man began to cry because there were no more moths nor had he found himself. ©Louis E. Bourgeois 2007 |
| Bourgeois' books include, Through the Cemetery Gates, The Distance of Ducks, The Animal, Cora Falling Off the Face of the Earth, White Night, Fragments of a Life Thirty-two Years Gone, OLGA and a forthcoming collection of short prose, The Gar Diaries. He is also co-founder and editor of VOX, an independent experimental literary journal based in Oxford, Mississippi. |