Wednesday, September 02, 2009

SPACE JUNK, PART ONE, AFTER THE BEATING

Jone y El Grumo, Jone Y El Grumo, then all the pain, all the painful detail and Jone y El Grumo disintigrated again in a breath of comforting blackness.

After the beating, sometime after the beating, I regained a semblance of consciousness awhile.

Something under me was clawing me into the blood and cement and something invisible above was crushing the air from my....

Street, damp dirt and stones, blood, it all seemed to be so very intimate and incredibly detailed and vast and painful. The sky felt so darkened and far away and insignificant, an agony of distance away, and I could never have got a grip on the void even if I could have moved more than a splitting right eye....


Wall, broken down wall over there in front of my eye. Names, names, marks, graffiti all over the wall. Amongst the crowd, the long gone gang, Jone y El Grumo, Jone y El Grumo....

I knew a Jone once, way back then in two thousand and nine, so El Grumo must have been The Beast....

Jone y El Grumo....

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