Billy
wrote some stories for a magazine called (t)here. An artsy magazine that
featured the photographic work of his girlfriend, Yelena. Here are the
stories he wrote, and yes, they do make sense...think about what he is
saying...or at least have fun trying to figure out what he is going on
about :)
She rode in a ghost train all
the way to Indianola hoping to find love among the lace and steel of the
Big Apple (go figure). She always felt some sort of nascent guilt that
only seemed to complicate her battles with emphesema but she had skininess,
and she had promised Dooley her boyfriend that she would think of him always.
But secretly she knew she'd forget him between French cigarettes and paused
kisses. The demons eternal - a song drummed in her like a muddy river -
her banks inviting but always an inescapable muck. Someone once told her
she would make a difference and unfortunately she had believed them. So
she beat the slick pavement in chinese slippers - humming "scary monsters,
super creeps," silently to herself - wondering if she'd get that job calling
invalids posing as a cripple herself -insert chuckling irony here -
He'd recently stumbled upon
a job at a sino/italian restaurant, his main job being noodle seperation/preperation.
It was a no job, because he kept waiting to say no to whoever asked him
to do anything. He'd seen having dreams (feel plot shift) that he'd seen
having an affair with a lesbian princess who was using him as a denial
device for both her own impotent husband and her raging lust - it (as the
lust was referred to) reared its little voice when she'd fucked the court
cook at age 7 -and the fire had burned her ever since - Rasputin felt her
in his dreams- the stalking of his psyche by a betrayed nation -he felt
the call like a radio attenae but nothing in his sino/italian restaurant
supported his vain glory dreams of importance. It made him so sad to be
trapped in a zabruder loop of time dysfunction - but what could he do?
Fay had eaten ice cream only
once, and to those that knew her, it was a factoid that addled many a dinner
conversation to near frenzy with questions and witty quips - debutantes
would turn and beseech Fay - "have you never had almond or green tea or
even chocolate ice cream?" to which Fay would reply, "no" (eyes darting)
"only vanilla" - the easy connection to make in this narrative is that
fez Fay led a wink - wink vanilla life - but this was not true - she was
allergic to ice cream-which led to a whole series of events - linked fortuitously
like in a good movie that led to fay contemplating her own suicide. not
that she'd ever kill herself - she was too beautiful for that, but she
took great amusement in practicing - how would they find me? Should the
note be short/long a Yeats poem perhaps - maybe a japanese haiku - no one
understands fay -
Who is Ducky Wucky everyone
wanted to know show? Where did she come undone from - her mask fastened
to her bed head at such a young age that she'd forgotten the feel of her
own fleshy face - (a pretty face she'd been told once) she was now a lucky
ducky wucky to receive so much deflection attention. Some figured she was
Australian, but it was just the way the mask made her funny sunny voice
sound filtered thru the layers of paper mache! It started innocently enough
- strangers w/ wax, then clown w/ stilts peaks of latex novelties meshing
with consecrating flesh, to many ducky wucky was a throbbing temple - to
be worshipped revered for her tolerance to pain - but what no one understood
is that without the eyes for them to see there is no pain really truly.
they could hide behind ducky wucky's mask better than lucky ducky wucky
could even hope to blve.
