The Ticket That Exploded

  Bradly was met by a white-coated Cockney attendant he had known some years before in a London hotel room by Earl’s Court —

  “How are we? — Leave your gear here” —

  He led Bradly to a room with metal walls that smelled of ozone and flash bulbs — Bradly stood naked under floodlights while the attendant took pictures — Full-length, close-ups, following the divide line down under his nose along his penis down to the rectum — The attendant made measurements chartering his body and wrote the numbers down in a note book —

  “Full length now — That’s right — Turn around — Bend over — Lie down — Knees up to the chin now” —

  Bradly sat in a booth and electrodes were attached to his skull and penis and lips — He watched the wavering lines on a view screen jump and dance as the attendant touched him adjusting the electrodes — Small microphones were attached to the two sides of his body the sounds recorded on two tape recorders — He heard the beating of his heart, the gurgle of shifting secretions and food, the rattle of breath and scratches of throat gristle — crystal bubbles in the sinus chambers magnified from the recorders — The attendant ran the tape from one recorder onto the other to produce the sound of feedback between the two body halves — a rhythmic twang — soft hammer of heartbeats pounding along the divide line of his body — He ejaculated in a wet dream of scenic railways —

  The attendant led him to a cubicle with cot, washstand, toilet and shower — He sat down on the cot with the attendant and the pictures just taken were flashed on a view screen that formed one wall of the cubicle —

  “And now how are we?” —

  Flashed a series of composites made by cutting Bradly’s image down the middle and fitting to half-images of the attendant — Discrepancies smoothed out by vibrating focus scalpel of the projector until one body was picture in a series of positions —

  “Full length now — That’s right — Turn around — Bend over — Lie down — Knees up to the chin now” —

  Lines of brain wave and electric discharge from erogenous zones appeared on screen shifted back and forth across each other in permutating grills welding two brains and bodies together with vibrating feedback — The screen shifted into a movie — Bradly was lying naked with the attendant on the cot — The divide line of his body burned with silver flash fire shifting in and out of the other body — rectal and pubic hairs slipping through composite flesh — penis and rectums merged on screen and bed as Bradly ejaculated — He woke up with other thoughts and memories in Cockney accent of that attendant standing there with a plate of food — saw himself eating on screen composite picture tasting food in the other mouth intestines moving and excrement squirming down to the divide line of another body —

  Next day a Chinese attendant put Bradly through gymnastic positions on rings and hand-bars — the pictures repeated and cut in with composites of the attendant — tasting Chinese food the characters like neon in his throat — Other attendants: American, German, Spanish, Italian, Arab, Negro — composites of all the attendants cut in together shifted and permutated through his body —

  Now for the story of Bradly’s clothes — painted human skin half-inflated — worn amber rectum valve at base of the spine — Attendant took pictures — Close-ups wrote the ticket to yellow and blue dawn trailing Pan pipes — Slow discrepancies smooth unknown bodies out the projector until one body of sex position to the sound track melted — Now turn around and bend over for the story of absent legs up to your chin —Mirror line of his body burned with second halves shifting erect penis and rectums— pulsing human skin stuck to faces half-remembered— vibrating focus scalpel flashes broken glaciers and skin instructions — He woke up with other thoughts i have touched in accent of the attendant — Pools and canals reflected excrement mixed with flowers — story of absent legs up the tarnished mirror — In a rusty privy youth bends over — faint drums of memory on his back — green boy of broken glaciers and skin instructions — encrusted music woke in jungle sounds of pools and canals cross the drenched lands — clouds of color under orange gas flares — worn amber memory of rectal swamps — Place exploded in muscles — First spurts he could feel the other body slipping all process together — Tentative being stuck to his penis half-remembered — Hyphenated line of his body shifting the applicant awoke — erect penis and rectum different — the story of penny arcades and dirty pictures — Unknown body slipped out of sex position to grow on us — Hairs rub the halves — Electric waves loosen you up a bit — other thoughts like luminous snow falling through London hotel room accent:

  “How are we?” —

  Timeless in flash bulbs here — Electrodes were attached in bath cubicles and locker rooms — Body burned with silver flash fire ejaculated in a few seconds — Flash bulbs along the penis popped sound and image flakes — The Other Half fades in mirror of beating heart — feedback sound of wind through the trees —

  The sexual acrobats balance a chair on high wires and ejaculate from the tension — They masturbate from bicycles on the wire from tumbler pyramids and in the air of trapeze acts — (In the penny arcade he got a hard-on looking at the pictures and Hans laughed pointing to his fly — “Let’s make the roller coaster” he said — We were the only riders and as soon as the car started we slipped off our shorts — We came together in the first dip as train roared up the other side throwing blood back into our drained genitals shirts flapping over the midway — boys swinging from rings and bars jissom falling through dusty air of gymnasiums — slide down into the pool of moldy jockstraps and chlorine ejaculating from the shock of water — ferris wheels falling silently through tumescent flesh) —

  Bulletin from Rewrite: “The point of these exercises is to maintain a state of total alertness during sexual excitement — Try simple exercises first like jacking-off while balancing a chair — Driving full-speed on dangerous road — Flying plane — Performing precision operations at the same time like target shooting — So you can maintain alertness in the sex act and not be taken by the sex agents of the enemy who move to soften you up with sentimentality and sexual frustration to buy ersatz goo of their copy planet” —

  The two boys got in the cub naked and took off climbing to an altitude of two thousand feet with dual controls — Hans put the plane into a spin while the other boy jacked him off — slipping, looping, ejaculated from the shift of blood came in with a hard-on for a spot landing — shooting coins flipped into the air cock pulsing in the afternoon sun —

  Bradly moved into a maze of orgone accumulators — circular rooms lined with magnetic iron — He entered the maze with three other boys — In the first chamber they found iron frames on which they stretched their bodies in different positions of exposure — A vibrating silence hummed through the magnetized air — Tingling blue light touched his rectum and genitals playing along the divide line left a taste of metal in the mouth — Smaller accumulators with hose attachments turned directly on erogenous zones the message of orgasm received and transmitted — He passed now to other rooms with magnetized sex symbols on revolving walls — The three other boys were not there now — They had been replaced by precise copies in a substance like flexible amber molded from their bodies, the two halves welded together — Odors spattered out as electric vibrators sidled the dummies toward him — smell of rectal mucus, sweat, carbolic soap, jissom, and stale underwear over clean young flesh — From transistor radios in the throat drifted all the sex words of his wet dreams and masturbating afternoons — The penis canal was a jointed iron tube covered by sponge rubber — Pubic hairs of fine wire crackled with blue sparks — The dummy cocks rose in response to magnetic attraction of the wall symbols — “Bend over” Bradly stretched himself over an iron frame — The dummy that was precisely me penetrated him with a slow magnetic movement — Tingling blue fire shot through his genitals transfixed by the magnetic revolving wall symbols — The vibrator switched on as the others watched — idiot lust drinking his jissom from screen eyes — Sucking cones
of color that dissolved his penis in orgasms of light —

  “Better than ‘the real thing?’ — There is no real thing — Maya — Maya — It’s all show business” —

  Picture flesh — felt the penny arcade in his crotch — fly full of dust, pulled up his pants — back into drained genitals — Intersection of these exercises spattered light on total alertness during sexual flight — naked for physical riders as stomach muscles exploded in altered pressure — “Whee” the sex act soften you up to buy death in orgasm of copy planet — Other side throwing the orgone accumulators — take over all sexual apparatus — smell of moldy jockstraps and chlorine ejaculating —

  Bulletin from Rewrite: “Sex is electric output of the organism in message received and transmitted — Sex words evoke a dangerous that is to say other half of the body — Precise attraction — So what is ejaculation? Shooting at target — The orgasm is a flash bulb that takes your picture — Charge of course is electrical hose attachments they turned on — Rusty image of a separate being — feed-back noise of accumulators — You see the caustic layers of organic material? That is what they need from earth: Three other boys to make more marble flesh, ass and genitals vibrated by the iridescent attendant — Orgasm death is to other half of the body — So what is ejaculation? substitute patterns twisting through electrical pubic hairs, feed-back throat hum, recorder jack-off — Hose attachment substitutes all cocks — They turned off nervous system to the metal ray — switch on off body sound magnetic patterns — Where ‘the passengers’ came together recorders jack-off in flash coordinates — back into your drained genitals all junk and cool circuits — Virus punch cards waiting before organism — 8276 runs out in iridescent road naked with a hard-on shooting torture films — Maintain your alertness in eyes glinting with slow fish lust — sex agents of the enemy who color sex words with ersatz goo — pass along the orgone in throat gristle alternating body — take a simple tape from one hum between the hose attachments — Orgones through iron repetition setting off word tape response in the other nervous system—image of a separate being touched lungs penis and electric body hairs — now passes along orgone in throat gristle alternating sex words to color: ‘Bradly’ entered the controlled prisoner body — tingling blue light in a simple tape from one drifting hum for the act between hose attachments — layers of organic material rubbing off the encrusted odors of three other boys and so a ‘conversation’ that has ass and genitals spelt out in his mouth — ejaculation output of control system received and transmitted — Sex words evoke the other open shirt flapping viscera — torture films electric eyes glinting with insect lust — alternating amber beads and little tunes taken centuries to accrete — hum and taste of metal in the beads — Stroking music from hose attachments they turn virus punch cards to magnetic patterns — past time energy units — That is to say a dead land — 8276 whispered through iron from pale word dust stirring tape — marble parasite image of a separate being — dream flesh held together by sex words” —

  The Sex Musicians drift through streets of music trailing melodious propositions — In bath cubicles of a rotting pier over tide flats a boy played the jade flute while Bradly screwed him following the notes out of his body into birdcalls lapping water and distant music on the trade winds — In a cool blue room sucked off a clarinet player to a climax of wind chimes, subway dawns, and clicking turnstiles — Under red fuck lights bent over a black hotel chair beating a drum as a Mexican boy with street dust in his hair fucked him to the drumbeats — these sounds recorded and carried through streets of music — The Sex Musicians drift in and out of combos as colored light pulses to their instruments — on a rotting pier: “Here goes” — Bradly bent over a chair and spread ass cheeks — Smoke finger fucked him to drumbeats — as colored light pulsed through old photos turning sex words and singing dust — ghost rectums drum and pipe to silence from satellite rings — The units turn faster and faster through streets of music trailing word dust over the tide flats — Faster played the flute — Here goes word dust planet — his body into birdcalls and distant music on the wind — “I wanta screw you” in a cool room with rose wallpaper — faces naked of word dust in a shower of ruined suburbs — rings of Saturn in the morning sky as a Mexican boy stirred slow rectum gate — “Want screw you — Over” — “Here goes” — Spin the walls and orbit sex words back to color — Played the flute in flash bulb of orgasm — tarnished mirror of subway dawns in the bath cubicle — “Bend over” — sex words back to slow movement of rivers — young faces lapping water — wind chimes from Attic frieze —drumbeats of ghost people — “You is coming?” into birdcalls and jungle sounds — In red light felt his pants slide — Cock flipped out and up — Beat a drum on knees like como perros — “Slow, deep, Johnny” — The notes twisting Johnny’s thighs — candle shadow bent over a chair — Fucked to music from the casino — flicker faces and bodies fade-out in old photos — toilet smell of subway dawns — Greek vases give out slow crystal music of phallic statues and limestone centuries — Played the flute with fingers light and cold over my naked body — City sounds drift through a blue room under the slate roof — penny arcades on the rotting pier — “Here goes” — flesh sparks to drumbeats — Played the flute faster and faster — limestone flesh stirring in old movies — Hairs rub the rose wallpaper — “You wanta screw me?” trailing flash bulb of orgasm in other flesh — “You is coming?” — pale smell of dawn rectums over a chair — Questions pulse to their instruments — rings of Saturn in the morning sky — Fucked to ebbing carbon dioxide — “Mr Bradly Mr Martin” is smell of subway dawns — Played the flute with fingers light and cold in the door — City sounds drift through the final ape of history —

  “Remember i was the movies, the door flash bulb of orgasm — sex words in the cold Spring air — pale smell of dawn shirt — distant proposition in bath cubicles, there the boy played a flute, ten-year-old keeping watch — cracked out of his body into birdcalls and vaudeville voices — distant music to crown a God with street dust — in the gutter urine sounds — naked brain stranded in the tide flats — Fade-out overtakes a rotting pier — Young faces turn faster and faster through dead nitrous streets — open shirt in the bath cubicle — The street blew rain — You is coming in the death trauma?” —

  Distant coffin pulses to their instruments — odor of naked rectums on the rotting pier — “Here goes” in his crotch — Here goes word dust planet — faces naked of old dream — Rings of Saturn in the morning sky melted sex words back to color — Tarnished mirror of subway dawns lying there — Last round over — sex words back to the trade winds — rose wallpaper bleeding dream — Clicking turnstiles left no address — For i have known street dust in his hair — “Isn’t time is there left to give you” — A boy waits on the rotting pier — Departed have left distant music from the casino — over the water “good night” in old photo—sleep breath under the slate roof — solitude of morning stirring old limestone flesh — Leaning say: “You is coming? — ebbing carbon dioxide — Man, like good bye then — Remember i was movies — Played the flute in last terrace of the garden — City sounds drift through a blue room — Left no address — For i have known arcades on the rotting pier — Isn’t time is there left? — Played the flute faster and faster to you — Sex words drifted slowly out into the cold Spring air — pale smell of dawn in the door — Played the flute with fingers fading” —